


When the Wise falter

by navvy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 53,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23200384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navvy/pseuds/navvy
Summary: Harry Potter has never been able to shake off his 'saving people thing' as Hermoine had so aptly called it. So when he discovered his former lover has been deceived and captured by his current one, he is unable to let him die as a consequence for his mistakes.
Relationships: Celebrimbor | Telperinquar / Harry Potter, Celebrimbor | Telperinquar/Sauron | Mairon
Comments: 78
Kudos: 119





	1. The fall of the wise

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this one came from! I haven't thought much of Celebrimbor, although I found the character an interesting one. I was planning on maybe making a HP / Crossover pairing Harry with Gil-Galad, but while I was imagining that, this one came to life! And I couldn't resist it. 
> 
> So there is plenty of angst here as this is probably the darkest time of Celebrimbor's life. However, giving his canon ending, I'm giving him a chance here for improvement, hopefully. 
> 
> Title: _"help oft shall come from the hands of the weak when the Wise falter"_ I like to use quotes as titles for my stories when I can. I had a hard time finding something fitting for this tale, but I liked this one from Gandalf / Mithrandir, I think this fits Harry and his life pretty well, don't you?.
> 
> Name cheatsheet at the end.
> 
> betaed by books4life16

Harry erupted into Celebrimbor's workshop in a rush, having crossed the burning city as fast as he could when he was notified of the invasion. Despite the discussion, the pain and the cheating, he couldn't leave the one he had loved -maybe still loved-- to the fate he was sure was waiting for him at the hands of his new lover.

Once inside the familiar room, he had barely an instant to re-familiarize himself with the layout of the place and take stock of what was happening in it. For a brief moment, he believed he was again intruding in an intimate moment between Celebrimbor and Annatar, that the two of them had, despite the chaos outside, decided to sleep with each other despite the battle outside. However, he soon realized that his initial instincts had been right. 

Celebrimbor was tied face down against the worktable in the middle of the room, almost naked down to his small clothes. He had his eyes closed and didn't look, at first sight, like he was being tortured. That was the reason Harry had feared this was some kind of game he had crashed into, again. However, the blood running down his sides into the table, apparently from a whipped back, the mithril chains he was tied down with and the rictus of pain told a different tale.

Harry took an instinctive step into the room, forgetting for a moment the other likely occupant of the place, only wanting to help his former friend and lover. That was a grave mistake.

"Cel..." - he said softly, reaching his hand towards the other elf. Celebrimbor opened his eyes suddenly and looked at Harry in horror, almost the same aghast face he had when Harry had first discovered him sleeping - well screwing really - in their bed with the Maia. Harry was almost tempted to laugh at the irony. 

"Istyar! Look out! He is here, he will kill you! Run!" - he said in almost a broken voice. Harry remembered at once the one he had been sure was responsible for the chaos outside, but he was too late when he felt someone behind him picking him up and throwing him through the room to the other side like he was a weightless feather.

He hit the wall behind Celebrimbor's desk with a strong thud, sliding down the wall while trying to catch up his breath again. Annatar started to laugh at the sight and addressed his words to Celebrimbor.

"Your poor misguided lover! Even after you discarded him so cruelly for me, cheating and letting him find us together in your bed. He still has come to save you! I know you were a foolish one little Sylvan but I didn't think you were this senseless. Still, to have been able to cross the city and reach this room... that is admittedly quite interesting" - the white-haired Maia looked torn between evil delight and intrigue at the unexpected mystery. Harry took advantage of the typical evil ranting, - _was that taught in evil school?_ \- to raise from the floor and walk discreetly in Celebrimbor's direction.

* * *

Celebrimbor felt like his body was bruised everywhere. He wondered if this had been how his uncle had felt when he had been first rescued from being tortured - _by the same hands who had tortured Celebrimbor_ \- and he felt a - _very_ \- belated admiration for his uncle's mettle to recover from such experience. He had been too young at the time to realize what had happened to Maedhros, but now he knew - from experience - the full scope of his uncle's experience, he could feel the horror and sympathy he had seen in his father's and his other uncle's faces.

Also, he felt the terror of seeing Istyar appearing at the door of the torture chamber his tower had become. The only saving grace he had known when he realized who Annatar really was had been the thought of Istyar's safely gone from the city, or that he had thought after his words at the Council two weeks ago. As part of the scouts who had been investigating the happening outside their wall and, what he now knew, the approaching armies - Sauron's armies - Istyar had strongly recommended evacuating the city before it was too late. Galadriel and her young daughter had left after that after a long night of discussion and calling him all kinds of a fool, safely carrying with them Celebrimbor's final and more important work, to be passed to the High King if he was wrong and they were right. 

As he was. He could only pray to the Valar for they had eluded the orc's armies now surrounding his beautiful - and doomed - city.

Istyar's call of his name attracted the wrong attention, and Celembrimbor could only watch while the Maia launched the slim form of his former lover through the room until he heard him impact the wall behind him. He couldn't even turn his head enough to see how the younger elf had fared. Sauron's rantings about how Istyar had reached this far were ignored while he tried to stretch his senses as far as he could trying to feel any sign of life from Istyar. He almost cried from relief when he heard him moving around after a few moments. 

He allowed that moment of relief to give him a respite from the pain and fear he had been suffering since the former night when he had been confronted with the reality of his situation. He had doomed his people to the most terrible fate imaginable by having trusted the word of the worst evil in Middle Earth, Morgoth's former lieutenant: Mairon, later known as Sauron and who now had seemingly been hiding under the facade of Annatar, Lord of Gifts. Whatever the identity he had hidden behind, Celebrimbor had invited him into his city - _and into his bed_ \- despite the warnings and opposition of those closest to him, and put his people in mortal peril because of it.

And, despite having been unfairly ignored first and cruelly betrayed after, Istyar, kind, clever and brave Istyar, had come to the most dangerous place of the city, into Sauron's presence, to rescue him, Celebrimbor, from his own foolish decisions. 

Again, the situation brought Celebrimbor back in time to the discussions he had overheard between his uncle Maedhros, barely recovered from his ordeal, and his brothers when he decided to abdicate into his uncle Fingolfin. Celebrimbor's father, Curufin, had been among the more vociferous against the decision, accusing Maedhros of trying to repay his cousin Fingon for his rescue. Maedhros had been categorical: no action of his could ever repay Fingon for his actions, and he had never been worthy of the risk he had taken. 

Even as young as he was then, Celebrimbor had been aware of his uncle's and his cousin's 'special' relationship, but only now he understood the deep distress he had seen in his uncle's face when he remembered his cousin's actions. At the time, he had been only too happy to see his uncle again after so long, even as damaged as he had returned, but now he understood his uncle's feelings for Fingon's actions after Losgar and the Ice. After those terrible betrayals, Fingon had still found in Maedhros and their former relationship enough worth to risk all to save him. A worth Maedhros hadn't found in himself after how he had betrayed his cousin's trust and love.

A worth Celebrimbor didn't find in himself after having betrayed Istyar's trust and love. Even worse, he hadn't been even brave enough to confront him directly but had left him to find it by himself in the most terrible way possible: by catching them in the act accidentally by having come sooner than expected. Although now, Celebrimbor had started to suspect there hadn't been any accident . Annatar had purposely staged the whole thing so he could have a better hold into Celebrimbor himself, isolating him from other influences other than him.

Celebrimbor couldn't allow Istyar to pay the ultimate price for his compassion. Celebrimbor hadn't been able to fight for his own survival, feeling his fate had been brought down because of his own actions and he deserved it because he had doomed his people. But he would fight to save the last remaining light in his life. Istyar had come into his life unlooked for and unexpected, wholly different than anyone Celebrimbor had even met before. He had challenged and brought light and happiness as he hadn't known since his childhood in Aman. Until he had met Annatar and fallen under his spell. 

Celebrimbor would fight to preserve that, whatever the cost. He started to test the manacles he had been tied with, looking for any weakness to be taken advantage of.

* * *

In the meantime, luckily for Harry, Annatar’s throw had put him on the same side of the room as the older elf. Annatar kept an evil monologue going while he went to check on the wards he had put in the tower, convinced that Harry was no threat and he had crossed into the keep not by his talent but by some gap in his work. Harry, used to being underestimated, took advantage of it by closing down on Celebrimbor's position and inspecting his bonds. Celebrimbor, having Harry entered into his line of sight, tried again to make him leave.

"Istyar, please. You need to leave while he is distracted. Go to the city, take whoever you can with you and leave. You can go to the King and Elrond and ask them for help. They will need to know what happened here and how Annatar has betrayed us" - he whispered, keeping an eye on the Maia while he spoke. Harry mostly ignored him, having noticed that the chains hadn't been enchanted, they were only relaying in the mithril's strength. He would be able to open them with a simple Alohamora. He only needed to use it at the most convenient moment to get them out of there. 

Celebrimbor tried to get his attention again

"Please Istyar, I know I earned this, but please don't make me see you die, besides all the pain I've already bestowed upon you" - he pleaded brokenly. Harry looked at him sideways and answered him at last, while keeping an eye on Annatar.

"Celebrimbor, I'm here because I chose to be here. You are not responsible for me or my decisions in any way. And, for the record, I don't need to go to the High King or his Herald to tell them Annatar has betrayed you. They never trusted him to start with, that was pretty clear with how they banned him . As for the fall of Ost-in-Edhil, I'm sorry to tell you this, but it's obvious for miles. You would need to be blind not to see the fires from here"

Harry said, matter-of-fact. Seeing that Annatar had, arrogantly, turned his back to them while he checked into his defences, Harry took his chance. Drawing his wand discreetly, he kept the desk between his hand and Annatar's line of sight and wordlessly started to open the manacles. After the first one, he kept his eye on the Maia. who didn't react to the small bit of magic and went on to the other three. Celebrimbor had turned speechless at the surprise of the manacles opening in his hand and was now looking to Harry almost open-mouthed. 

The moment Celebrimbor’s last bond was open, Harry rushed to help him up and away from the table, backing away from Annatar as fast as they could and towards the small balcony. They had almost reached the doors when Annatar, at last, turned back around seeing them trying to escape. His face of rage and incredulity was almost humorous, his raised glowing hand not that much. Harry, almost by reflex, raised his hand in a silent _Protego_ and when the ball of fire was thrown to them, he was able to repeal it and threw it instinctively back. 

Without giving another look back to see if he had hit the Maia, Harry opened the balcony doors and dragged Celebrimbor there with him. Taking a quick breath when he felt they had crossed the wards of the room, Harry didn't lose another minute.

"This is going to feel awful the first time, brace yourself!" - that was the only warning he gave to Celebrimbor before pulling the memory of the place he had readied for their escape, apparating them both away. 

The last sight they had of Ost-in-Edhil was the rage-filled gaze of Annatar, fading into a fascinated one, burning a hole into Harry's face. Harry slammed up his Occlumency shields just in case, as he was apparating them away.


	2. Among the tales of sorrow and of ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of background for this tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: _“Among the tales of sorrow and of ruin that came down to us from the darkness of those days there are yet some in which amid weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures. And of these histories most fair still in the ears of the Elves is the tale of Beren and Lúthien”_. So I'm thinking to make this story's chapter titles came from quotes, fitting ones I hope. Of course, I don't mean the whole thing, but taking the words out of the original context. I liked this one and I think it fits Harry's situation. 
> 
> Sorry for the long absence, I've been both being a bit lazy (sorry!) and also have (I hope) the good excuse to have been reading "Of a Linear Circle" which completely absorbed me for over two weeks. It's amazing, I have been wanting to read it for a while now, although I haven't gotten the time before now, because it's a monster, but I hope it has helped me also for my writing of this as it has been a while since I read the books. I would apologize if I have absorbed too much of her writing and it reflects in mine, but honestly :) I don't think I got the talent to make this half as good as that. That said, I hope you enjoy it regardless!

When Harry arrived at this new world, his thought while he opened his eyes was that his luck was holding up as usual. His bad luck anyway. 

He had been investigating the workings of the Death Chamber for a few months now, despite the protests of his friends who thought he was 'living in the past'. 

He truly wasn't. At least he didn't think he was. He had been unable to explain to his friends the reason he felt attracted to that Chamber, but it wasn't, as Hermione thought, that he was still trying to find a way to bring back his family. Or, in particular, to bring Sirius back from death. If something had become clear for him after many years of study and his close experience with Death, it was that once Death got a hold of you, you were in a one-way path and you couldn't turn back. And he had lost any fear of it, he knew Death was only another step of the path, another place to go in the circle of life and nothing you should fear. As the tale said, Death had become almost a friend to Harry and he didn't fear her. Voldemort had thought he had found a way to avoid Death, but he had just taken a detour. It was, in fact, his wish for immortality had taken him into a path which had unavoidably led him to a faster death. 

The true reason he had to study the Death Chamber had been the strong feeling that, in it, it was the key to free himself from the Deathly Hallows. Contrary to what he had told Hermione and Ron, and everyone else who knew something about them, he hadn't been able to get rid of the Hallows. After Voldemort's ultimate death and the chaos following he had been able to imply he had gotten rid of them, he had even thought it truth himself for a while.

He had 'lost' the Ring at the Forbidden Forest and put the Wand back at Dumbledore's tomb, but both Hallows had eventually returned to him. He had even, to his uttermost pain, decided to try and get rid of the Cloak. He had thought that maybe if he didn't get rid of the three of them at the same time that they were able to return to him so he had gone to a camping trip to the Forbidden Forest, and he had buried the three Hallows at different locations within it. They had been waiting for him at his table when he returned home.

He then took to study different rituals to destroy magical objects, runes, even some holy blessings. Nothing worked, always, they were waiting for him at home.

He decided to try for a more Muggle means: he tried burning, chemicals, throwing them into the sea, he appeared into a volcano and threw them in ... nothing worked. A day or a week after, they always returned to him. 

It was maddening. At first, he had only wanted to get rid of them as a part of his endless quest to normality, to be 'just Harry' as much as he could. He had feared that his ownership of them, although he had claimed to have gotten rid of them and that was what all his friends thought, would put a target in his back. And a target to the back of his friends. That was also the reason he hadn't tried to give them away, for the fear of putting some else in danger. 

However, while the years passed and he was unable to get free of their influence, he had started to notice something else even more alarming: he wasn't growing old, or at least he hadn't grown old past a certain age. He had indeed kept growing for a few years after seventeen when they had first come into his possession. He had finally reached a reasonable height at 6'' feet, his face had filled out the baby fat, he had grown broad shoulders and his voice had grown out of the squeaky teenager phase. 

But some things were missing: he wasn't able to grow a beard to save his life, his voice, while it was an adult one, was more light and clear than deep, he was lean and fast but unable to get bulky no matter how much he exercised.

All this may be able to be explained by the genetics, of course, people grew at different paces. Some people were hairier, bulkier, taller. Everyone had their tone of voice, some graver some lighter. Even his unique childhood could explain some of the differences, he had been starved for a great part of it and he had researched that could impede some of the natural processes of growth, even stunted them forever. But all together didn't make a pretty picture. And Harry was starting to fear the Hallows, and the legend behind them had some grain of truth in it. As much as he didn't fear Death, as he had started to believe Death was his friend in a strange way he barely admitted to himself, he didn't want any special treatment from her. 

It was in his thirties when he recognised he had to accept the truth: he wasn't growing old as his childhood friends were. It had been Ginny's resentful comment which had brought the truth home when she claimed she was starting to look as she had married to a younger man instead of someone a year older. That, following the fact Harry still didn't feel ready to have children, had been the final stone which buried their marriage. They had half-amicably parted a few months after, and Harry had buried himself in his work, now more obsessed than ever to find a way to break the Hallows' hold in him. To find a way out of the nightmare they had brought into his life. To stop the slow distance he was growing between him and his childhood friends while they grow old and he stayed the same.

That had been what had brought him to this moment. After months of watching and studying the Death Chamber, he had done what he had been planning to do from the start: bring the Hallows into the Room to see if they could be thrown into the door and return to their true Master. 

Harry had been aware of the risks of throwing unknown, powerful items into an unknown artefact as the Door was. The wizards of the department had tried to experiment with the Door for years, throwing different types of things through the door, small things first such as coins and progressively larger and more magical ones. 

Sirius had been an unknown experiment for the Door, and the fact that nothing had exploded when he crossed it had encouraged the wizards to try and throw through the door other things they hadn't dared before. They closely monitored the effects on their side because it was the only thing they could examine: magical residue, heat, strange sounds, that was the only thing that the Door returned. It was an ongoing fight to try and send some kind of monitoring device: everything they sent lost contact with their own world wherever it went, never to return. 

That was what Harry was counting on. He hoped that if he threw the Hallows through the Door, they would disappear from their world forever and he would be free of their influence, free to grow old again with his friends and family. 

As he should have expected, that wasn't what happened. When he threw the Hallows through the Door - in the middle of the night, when no one was around - there was an unexpected reaction from the Door. It was like they didn't want to let go of him, a blue bubble started to span from the Door, too fast from him to react, until it reached him... and drew him with it, and through the Door.

* * *

He awoke on the other side, in the middle of a forest and another world entirely. 

Harry's first reaction when he opened his eyes was to groan and close them quickly again. He was feeling as his head had been pounded with a hammer and the light was the nail which was being used to drill in his head. He rolled from his sprawled position in his back until he was facing the ground in a try to make it harder for the light to reach his poor, abused eyes. That was when he heard the first bell-like laugher. He couldn't appreciate the musical aspect of it, given the state of his head, but he was aware enough to recognize it as coming from someone non-human. He groaned again no wanting to face whatever had come close to him at this point. The other being, however, had different ideas. To make things worse they hailed him in an unknown language

" _Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo_ " - Harry heard in an accordingly musical voice. He wasn't able to discern if it was male or female, or even if whatever creature it belonged to made that kind of distinctions. They sound, to Harry's trained ear, friendly and kind, for the moment at least. That made the wizard aware that he should bear and make the effort to answer, or at least, try to communicate with whoever had found him in this last, luckless adventure. 

He rose carefully from his laid down sprawl, staying seated in the floor but a bit more vertical than before, and tried to open his eyes to the light. It wasn't as bad as it could be. Looking around a bit, he saw he was in the middle of a clearing, among some tall trees and the canopy of them blocked much of the sunlight around him. He was able to adapt a bit to the light while he tried to discern his surroundings. While he adapted to his surroundings, his headache seemed to improve a bit, although Harry took care of no making any abrupt movements. He vaguely thought that his eyesight had improved significatively in the crossing, because despite the horrible headache he had, he was able to distinguish far too many details.

First of all, he saw the being he thought had addressed him earlier. Even at first glance, he realized he had been right when he marked them as non-human. Despite the similar form and height, there was something in their features, in the way they stood, even in the flow of their hair that made Harry's instincts to sit up and take notice. The way they did with anything outside the ordinary. He tried a friendly greeting:

"Hello? Do you speak my language?" - he asked doubtfully. He started a bit, his voice sounded strange to his own ears, as he had changed his register somehow, he got distracted by the other’s reaction. The taller being seemed confused and looked behind him, where Harry notice a few other beings like him were waiting. They talked to each other in their musical language before the one who seemed the leader came closer, a blonde blue-eyed beautiful being who looked a bit like a Malfoy if you could find a kind, cheerful Malfoy.

The Malfoy-look-alike, who Harry took to call in his head Cheerful-Malfoy, crouched before Harry and showed him his hands in what Harry interpreted as a sign of he wasn't trying any harm. Harry stayed quiet and calm, showing his own hands, trying to convey the same message. He must have been a bit successful because Cheerful-Malfoy smiled again and carefully touched his hands while keeping a running commentary in their own language. The hands were warm and soft, Harry allowed the touch uncomfortably. The other being, by now Harry was leaning about being male despite the androgynous appearance, was inspecting him carefully like he was some kind of healer. That made Harry focused in his own body, he felt strange, like his body didn’t fit as it had before. Even his hair felt tamer somehow, or at least a bit more flat in his head -nothing could tame his hair fully, but it felt silkier- Eventually, he helped Harry to stand up and led him towards his companions. 

They started to talk in their musical language while Harry watched in silence, trying to understand without success. The language was fully foreign without any common words with his own. Everything about the other beings was strange, their clothes were mainly browns, greys and greens and looked both practical and beautiful. They were openly armed with swords, knives and bows and they seemed very comfortable with them. They all had long, flowy hair braided in different ways, clearly meaning something. Harry wasn't sure if the braids were meant to indicate status, skills, family or what but no one took so much time creating something that intricated without conveying a meaning. 

His blonde friend gestured Harry to follow them. Without having any other choice, lost as he was. Harry decided to follow these apparently friendly people towards wherever they had decided to take him. He had no other choices for now, except stay alone in that unknown forest. Between staying alone or following his new friends, his Gryffindor side prompted him to the later. Hermione's voice in his head advised him to be careful, but even she couldn't give him a better choice but follow these beings. With all his mental voices in agreement, _and didn’t that make him feel more than a bit crazy_ , Harry obediently followed his hosts to their destination, hoping for the best.

* * *

As it had happened when he first came into contact with the Magical world, Harry needed to adapt to a new life and a new reality. Luckily he was used to that. In time he learnt to love this new life and the people he met here. He learnt he was no longer as he was, he wasn't a man anymore but an elf. He didn't know the reasons the crossing had changed his race, but he learnt to live with the change.

He found new friends and a new family. He hid his magic which would have set him apart and become a healer and a scout and travelled this new world fascinated learning its secrets. He was content in his new uncomplicated life. He still didn't grow old, was still immortal, but now he was among others who also were like that. He was happy to stay in this newfound world, only half-heartily trying to figure out how he had arrived there. In the meantime, he enjoyed his simple life there, without being a hero, the boy-who-lived... until he met someone who would complicate it again: Celebrimbor son of Curifin son of Feanor.

* * *

Harry looked back to his wounded companion, shaking off his reminiscences while he wondered why his first day at Middle Earth had come to mind while he apparated them away from the city. They had arrived at the cave he had prepared for their escape and they didn’t have time to lose. He had revealed some of his powers to the worst creature imaginable and Annatar would be soon starting his pursuing of them. Harry would have a hard time taking him by surprise again.

“Come on, my Lord, we need to see to your wounds and leave this area as soon as possible” - Harry said, taking Celebrimbor’s arm softly and leading him to the cave where he had their supplies stashed. Including the horses. Celebrimbor looked dazed and followed Harry without resistance. 

Harry decided to take advantage of it while he could, he wanted them ready to depart within the hour, he feared they would need every minute they had available to make good of their escape. Without sparing another look to the burning city, he kneeled before his companion and started to check him out and heal him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo_ : a star shines on the hour of our meeting
> 
> Cheat name and character sheet, and a bit of background here as I'm starting this tale in the middle:
> 
> Harry: Harry Potter, I tried to create a name for Harry which would keep a bit of Harry meaning (Harry as far as I found mean: home or house protector, army commander). For commander I found Káno of course, for protector Varyando or Varno. I don't like any of them. Well I like Káno but for other elves :D. I won't bore you with all the search I made but finally I decided Istyar which means 'wizard' in the context of lore master, scholar, learned man. So I think it's an inner joke for Harry. Anyway, he still thinks of himself as Harry, so inner dialogue will show this, but for everyone else he is Istyar until he reveals himself and his past.
> 
> Celebrimbor: Son of Curifin, fifth son of Feanor. Great craftsman, creator of the three elven Rings. He was deceived by Sauron in the guise of Annatar (giver of gifts) to learn and work with him, and he created the Rings. But at the end he was suspicious of Annatar and kept the elven Rings in secret and out of Annatar's influence. In this story, their relationship was a bit more intimate, Annatar seduced Celebrimbor to gain access to his work. 
> 
> Annatar: Sauron's name when he returned to Middle Earth to gain access to the elven Realms. He pretended to be an emissary of the Valar, sent to help the elves with his knowledge. Gil-Galad and Elrond didn't trust him, but Celebrimbor did, to his ruin.


	3. By suffering and patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Celebrimbor need to figure out where they are going next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Justice is not Healing. Healing cometh only by suffering and patience, and maketh no demand, not even for Justice. Justice worketh only within the bonds of things as they are... and therefore though Justice is itself good and desireth no further evil, it can but perpetuate the evil that was, and doth not prevent it from the bearing of fruit in sorrow.”  
> ― J.R.R. Tolkien, Morgoth's Ring
> 
> So my, new quote for this chapter, I think it is fitting because both Cel and Harry have a lot to health from. As a side note, this chapter is written from both Celebrimbor and Harry's perspective, the first half is Harry's POV and he thinks of himself as Harry, in Cel's POV he thinks of Harry as Istyar. I hope it's not too confusing.
> 
> betaed by books4life16

After checking his companion as well as he could without touching him, discreetly casting a few spells to check for broken bones, poison or infection, Harry realized he needed to proceed with a bit of hands-on healing. He didn't want to cast magic unexpectedly to the other, taking into account how badly used he had been and how helpless he must have felt at Annatar's hands. So he tried first to grab Celebrimbor's attention.

"I should take a look at those wounds, my Lord. We will need to leave as soon as possible and I am afraid we may not be able to stop again for a while. We need to put as much distance as possible between us and this city. This whole area is going to be overrun by orcs very soon" - Harry said quietly, kneeling before the older elf trying to see if he would react to his voice. 

Celebrimbor seemed numb to what was happening around him. Harry didn't like his continuing lost gaze and mindless movements, just following his lead without complaint or noticing where he was being led to. After a few minutes trying to grab his attention, Harry sighed softly, deciding he didn't have a choice but to help him as best as he could and hope that didn't give Celebrimbor flashbacks to his _former_ lover's less-kind actions.

He used his wand to clean the worst of the blood so he could get a better look at what was underneath. Celebrimbor seemed to react a bit to the cleaning spell and his eyes finally focused on Harry's face.

"Istyar?" - Celebrimbor spoke softly. Harry kept with his cleaning and scanning spells without raising his gaze to him but answered.

"You are a bit roughed up, but I don't think it's too bad. I will patch up the worst of it and give you something to help with the blood loss. We need to leave as soon as possible" - Harry said, moving his wand in the soothing path of a few general healing spells he could do in his dreams, as many times as he had done them. He cleaned and disinfected the wounds, before closing or stitching them up. He couldn't close up the deeper ones because they didn't have the time or the energy for it. So he bandaged them as well as he could and took out a few potions from his bag, passing them over to Celebrimbor. 

The older elf took them warily in his hand raising them to his eyes trying to figure out the nature of the unfamiliar substances.

"I don't think I recognize this" - he admitted finally. Harry gave him a no-nonsense look and waved away the complaint.

"You wouldn't. As far as I know, you have little to no healer training. Take them or leave them my Lord, but we need to leave this place now, and they will help you to heal. I don't think I've done anything to deserve your distrust" - Harry said, putting his hand out to receive the bottle back. Celebrimbor seemed ashamed at the words, and drank both bottles without further complaint, returning the empty bottles to Harry.

"You haven't Istyar, just the opposite. I am the one who has shown himself untrustworthy and faithless. And why are you calling me Lord?" - he asked. 

Harry took the bottles back, and helped him to his feet, leading him towards the waiting horses. He ignored the question and helped him up the patient animal before returning to his own mount. Celebrimbor waited patiently for them to start their path before asking again.

"Istyar? Why are you calling me Lord? I thought we had left that behind long ago" - Celebrimbor inquired softly. 

"You are a Lord and I'm just a Sylvan scout, my Lord. It is just fitting that I don't presume too much familiarity" - Harry tried to keep alert of their surroundings. The number of orcs who had been attacking the city were probably still closer to it than to them, but he didn't want to risk running into some stragglers unprepared. He was only paying half attention to Celebrimbor's questions. He had been trying to distance himself from the older elf for weeks now and using that way of address helped him to remember the differences between them. He had been born into a very different world, and for a while, he had thought he had found a new place next to the smith. That had been his mistake and the pain he had suffered he wouldn't forget in a long time. 

Celebrimbor didn't appear to like his answer, for whatever reason, although Harry suspected he was mainly using this diversion to avoid thinking of other darker things.

"I asked you to just call me Celebrimbor. You even called me Cel before" - he said. 

Harry allowed himself a small sight before answering.

"I apologize, I shouldn't have called you that. I am no longer entitled to call you that" - Harry said evenly, trying to bury his feelings as deep as he could. He raised his right hand trying to keep Celebrimbor from asking more questions - "We should stay silent and alert while we go this way, there may be still some troops around here. Let's try not to cross paths with them." - Harry said. Celebrimbor desisted from his interrogation unhappily, while both of them tried to cross the path back to safety.

* * *

Celebrimbor looked around the area trying to keep attentive and be useful if any threat were to come in their way, but he still felt scattered and wounded from his body to his _fëa_. Still, whatever Istyar had given him clearly was strong enough to heal the worst of his wounds and Celebrimbor thought there was something to soothe the pain too. He wasn't hurting as badly as he should be, riding a horse and moving around as he was.

Istyar clearly knew what he was doing as a healer, and Celebrimbor hadn't known that he was such an accomplished healer. Actually, he hadn't known as much as he should have about the younger elf. Apparently, Istyar hadn't trusted with most of his secrets, Celebrimbor would have felt offended by the fact if he, Celebrimbor, hadn't shown so clearly to be unworthy of any trust at all. Istyar had been right to keep his secrets close to the vest, and they had all been more than lucky that Celebrimbor hadn't been able to betray them to the dark lord. 

A spike of pain went through his chest at Annarar's... Sauron's reminder. He had been a fool of the worst kind. He, Celebrimbor, who had been proud to claim he had kept clear from his family's worst deeds, had gone and sunk even deeper than any of his uncles or father. At least none of them had willingly slept with the enemy and opened the gates of their elven cities to him. At least they hadn't betrayed the one they loved, jumping in the bed of their worst enemy. No, that dark deed had been committed by Celebrimbor. To close up the dark path of misery and betrayal his family had committed over the last Ages, he had now added a few new ones of his own. What a wonderful family he was part of!

But that was unfair. His failings were his own. As bad and harmful as his family had been, they had been driven to the end by the Oath. And even at the worst of their madness, they hadn't been unfaithful to their lovers, not even those like his grandfather or his uncle who had left them at Valinor. They may have abandoned them, but they didn't cheat on them, for whatever comfort that may be. 

Celebrimbor didn't have that excuse. It is true that Istyar and he hadn't been bonded to each other, but their relationship had been official and exclusive. They had started to go to events with each other and to stay in each other's home more often than not. Even if Celebrimbor had wanted to finish the relationship when he met Annatar and become fascinated with him, Istyar hadn't deserved to discover it as he had. Celebrimbor had a hard time forgetting his former lover's face that night and the steely face he had shown when he reappeared in public weeks later. They hadn't even broken up officially as Istyar had disappeared, moved from his home, and never stayed alone with him or allowed Celebrimbor to talk to him again until this night.

Celebrimbor couldn't even remember what he had found so fascinating about Annatar. It was true that he had presented himself as a crafter and a teacher of the Valar's teachings. And that was bound to attract Celebrimbot's attention, who had been too young when they left Valinor to train with Aulë, as his father and grandfather had done. But it was completely out of character for him to behave as impulsively and cruel as he had done. He had never jumped in bed with someone days after meeting them, and he couldn't believe he would do it when he was already involved with someone. Now he had his eyes opened about who Annatar really was, he felt like he was awakening from a dream and looking at his actions from an outsider perspective. 

Istyar stopped his horse, looking ahead of him.

"We have arrived at the river's crossing. Tharbad is right ahead" - Istyar said looking down the plains to the two rivers meeting down below.

Celebrimbor looked down to the Valley below. This was one of the bigger Men cities near to Ost-in-Edhil, and more importantly, it had ships coming and going to the open sea. They could find a passage from there to Lindon, and avoid the orc-filled lands surrounding them. Istyar seemed to be of a similar mind.

"The Númenóreans will grant you passage back to the King's holdings. There are many ships which travel from here to there. It would be difficult for anyone to know which one you are going to use and that will keep you safe until you reach Lindon" - Istyar said, signalling his horse to move again. Celebrimbor grabbed hold of the other's reins.

"Grant _me_ passage?" - he asked, having noticed the pronoun - "What do you mean? Aren't you coming with me?" - he asked with a pain-filled voice. Istyar didn't look back to him, keeping his green-eyes fixed in the city below.

"I have no reason to go to Lindon my Lord. I am neither Noldor nor Gil-Galad’s vassal. He will need to have first-hand knowledge of what happened here, and you will give it to him. As for me, my friends and people are still here, I need to find the Companies and help them to avoid Sauron's forces" - Istyar said carefully. Celebrimbor didn't know how to answer that, Istyar's words had been pronounced without rancour or malice, but Celebrimbor felt the wound nevertheless. 

"I know you can take care of yourself Istyar, and I know I can no longer make any opinion about your decisions. I lost that right" - Celebrimbor swallowed that bitter thought - "You have more than shown that to me you can fight back" - Celebrimbor continued, everything in him screaming at him to take Istyar with him to Lindon. For the first time in a long time, he longed for his uncles' skill with words and their ability to convince people to their own ends. - "But you have shown that to Annatar too, Istyar. I saw him just before we left that tower, I saw the look in his eyes. He will be looking for you now Istyar, now you have drawn his attention, he won't lose it soon. " - he couldn't help the shiver at the thought - "Neither you have told me how exactly you get us out of that tower. You have been diverting my questions with the excuse we needed to move fast, and now you want to vanish without further explanation!" 

Istyar looked back at him at least and Celebrimbor noticed there wasn't fear in his eyes. He didn't know if that made him foolish or brave.

"I don't believe I am of that much concern to him, my Lord. Even if he is curious about me, it will soon fade. He is, after all, in the middle of mounting an attack against all the free people. He needs to strike strong and fast if he wants to take advantage of the surprise effect. Once we have time to mount a defence it will be harder for him to keep pushing. That is why you need to take a ship and talk to the King as soon as possible. There is no time to lose" - Istyar remarked.

"You don't know him Istyar, he will take the time to search for you! He is obsessive, clever and self-centred. It will eat him not to know how you get me out and he won't stop until he catches with you. And I can't bear to think what he would do if he gets you in his power" - Celebrimbor shuddered again at the thought, remembering his own experience. He couldn't bear the thought of sweet, kind and clever Istyar at Annar's, Sauron's hands - "Please! Come with me to Gil-Galad! We will talk to the King and plan a defence against this. You will be safer behind Lindon's palace walls. Anna.. Sauron won't be able to reach you there" - Celebrimbor pleaded to his former lover, his heart breaking at the thought of losing someone else. But Istyar denied again with a shake of his head.

"I need to warn the Companies, help them to get to a sanctuary, in Lindor or elsewhere. I just came all this way to get you to safety" - Istyar said - "I never intended to ingrain myself in your life again"

"Ingrain yourself! I am pleading to you to come with me!" - Celebrimbor exclaimed - "It is I who is indebted to you beyond anything I could ever pay and that was from long before this rescue! The way I treated you was abominable, and you have only reciprocated with kindness. Now, this has put you in danger, can you see? I can't repay your help by letting you go back to your death!" - the smith was almost to the point he wanted to force the other to the ship with him. 

Frustrated, he remembered the well-natured rows they had in the past about Istyar's 'adventures' and the risk he took. It was one of the things which had made Celebrimbor crazy about Istyar while they were together. He couldn't understand the risk the younger elf took like he wasn't worried about harm or death. And most of that, he had been unable to go past anyone needed help without stopping to offer his own. No matter what he had been doing, or how dangerous it may be for him. For Celebrimbor, who had grown under the yoke of the Oath and the inherent selfishness it had bred in his family because of it, it fostered opposite feelings within him, it drove him crazy with worry and frustration, but also made him fall even more in love with Istyar.

That last thought gave the smith a pause. He had forgotten, or Annatar had made him forget , how much he had loved the Sylvan. But his mind was clear again, and he wouldn't waste this new chance he had been given. 

"I will stay here with you then. I will help you to defend the companies. It is my responsibility, after all, that we weren't ready for this attack. They trusted me and I wasn't worthy of that trust" - he proclaimed. Istyar looked at him open-mouthed.

"Stay here? Are you out of your mind? Sauron will be looking for you! He will be sending party after party trying to seize you or kill you in the spot!" - Istyar had stopped the horse again looking at him in incredulity. Celebrimbor had to smother a smile at his reaction. He had at least stopped behaving as he was Celebrimbor indifferent escort.

"As you just said, he will be busy with his conquering plans. Neither of us will be his main focus right now" - Celebrimbor countered. Istyar narrowed his eyes irritated to have his own argument fling back to him.

"I said that about me Celebrimbor" - Celembrimbor had to turn his face around to avoid showing his pleasure at the use of his name - "I am not important. You were his price that I snatched from under his nose. You would have been the proof he would have shown around as a display of his might and as a way to undermine our spirit. Not only the Noldor's best remaining smith, tortured and killed at his hands, but the last of your house and the Oath your family swore to defeat his master" - Istyar said firmly. Celebrimbor appreciated Istyar's delicacy at avoiding the last victory of the dark maia.

"And the fool he tricked into his bed, making him renounce to any honour he had left before that" - he replied and continued before Istyar could say anything - "The fool who let himself to be deceived in a state of complacency and put his city and his people under the worst danger of this Age" - Celebrimbor concluded. Istyar bit his lip in thought - another small thing Celebrimbor had missed without knowing - and looking down again to the city started to talk.

"Your honour wasn't lost Celebrimbor. Sauron doesn't have that power unless you gave it to him. He just took advantage of your innocence for his own purposes, but that is on him not you" - he said lowly. Celebrimbor brought his horse closer to the other listening attentively - "You couldn't know what he was planning, he is an expert deceiver as he learnt from the best. He worked hard in his disguise and knew how best to gain the trust of others" - he said. Celebrimbor frowned in response.

"He didn't deceive you" - he observed - "From the first moment you were distrustful of him, I could see you" - he continued, ashamed of remembering his own reaction and dismissal of Istyar's thoughts. Istyar gave him now an ironic smile.

"I am distrustful of those I don't know their motivations. No matter how pretty they disguise themselves. And I've never easily trusted anyone embodying authority, and he came here claiming to represent the Valar. And..." - Istyar trailed off for a moment, Celebrimbor looked at him inquiringly and was surprised to see him hesitate - "I could see how he looked at you, I can't claim that didn't influence my opinion. I was almost certain he was more interested in your creations but it was clear how he expected to get closer to you" - he admitted softly. Celebrimbor closed his eyes in shame. He opened them again. 

"I don't have an excuse Istyar and I can't ask for your forgiveness. I can't explain what happened, I wouldn't have hurt you like this if I had been in my right mind. I never wanted to lose you and it kills me to have lost you anyway" - he admitted. Istyar looked at him thoughtfully, Celebrimbor continued hopefully - "I can't change the past, but the future hasn't yet passed. Please Istyar, come with me to Lindon, help me to talk to Gil-Galad, help us to fight Sauron. You know this fight can only be a success by the might of our people, together!" - he pleaded, taking Istyar's hand between his. He held on while the other tried to take his hand back. 

"And what about the Companies? am I to leave them to their luck?" - he asked softly. Celebrimbor sensed he was close to convince him and keep the pressure.

"You said it yourself, last night. They couldn't have missed what happened in the city. They have already left this place as fast as possible and they will be likely making their way to Lindon as well . Their best chance is to be fast and pass unnoticed. No matter what you say to yourself, your presence among them will draw Sauron's attention" - he concluded. Istyar made a face at that, unwilling to concede the point but unable to contest it. He lowered his eyes to the ground, clearly fighting with himself until he reached a conclusion. Celebrimbor waited.

"Very well. You win Celebrimbor. I will sail with you to Lindon, but" - he raised his head and looked him straight to the eye - "I won't stay there further than necessary. I will only make sure you arrive there safely and look for news of my people. You are right they are probably in contact with the King if nothing else." - he said, then without allowing for further discussion, he motioned his horse to continue to the town below , while Celebrimbor followed him. 

He knew he had won this battle, he could only hope once they reached Lindon Elrond and Gil-Galad would help him to convince Istyar to stay at the capital and join them in the fight against Sauron. He still didn't know what the younger elf was capable of or how he had acquired his skills, but he knew it was of the utmost importance to keep him safely away from Sauron's hands. He couldn't start to imagine what that traitorous maia would do to someone like Istyar if given the chance. Celebrimbor promised to himself he would keep the younger elf safe, even if the other never forgave him, he owed him that much.


	4. While the eyes of the great are elsewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's luck seemed to have improved when he first arrived in Middle Earth. It was probably bound to happen that it would change sooner than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get a few glimpses of Harry's experiences and the life he has made for himself in Middle Earth. I am going here a bit like they did in "The Witcher", intersecting the future and past between chapters until we have the whole timeline put together. It is a bit of an experiment for me, I find it interesting because it allows me to start the story right at the scene which prompted me to write it, which is a lot of fun but I understand it can be weird for the readers not knowing the context. Let me know what you guys think about this, if you wish, it would be interesting to have feedback about it. 
> 
> "Yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere." - Elrond  
> I won't pretend every chapter quote has a deeper meaning than the fact I like them and I remember fondly a few books than used quotes to start chapters (and I found it charming :)) That said, for this chapter quote, we are going to see Harry's past and how he slipped in Arda's story without the wisest noticing. That's your explanation, make of it what you wish.
> 
> Also, a bit of a poll here, to see if someone has an opinion. Do you people think Harry should forgive Cel? I admit that I initially thought this story as a Harry / Gil-Galad, and Celebrimbor kind of slip in? and made me like him? Must be that Feanorion charm ;) anyway, I am playing with the idea of making this slow-burn reconciliation or angst-fest for Cel (maybe with a alternative pairing for Harry), make your vote if you wish!

Harry’s first visit to Ost-in-Edhil left him impressed. Even coming from a world where crowded cities and technology were a commodity, he couldn't say he was unaffected at the sight of the beautiful elven city. Ost-in-Edhil had been built by the best architects and engineers of the Noldor and it showed. 

Harry had been In Middle Earth long enough to have heard the saying that if you dropped a pack of Noldor into an empty plain, they would have built a city within the month. Seeing this amazing place he could believe it. He had, by now, seen a few other settlements including a few elven ones, but this once outstripped any of them by a long shot. 

Ost-in-Edhil was built into the mountain's side, taking advantage of the ridges and valleys of the mountain range to its own benefit. The different areas of the city were joined between them by huge elegant bridges. From the outside, it looked an impossible feat of engineering, and that came from someone who was used to buildings which defied gravity - the Burrow came to mind. Elven architecture added, however, something enchanting. There was a delicate beauty in every design he could see, and incredible elegance at every arch and door. Harry could barely walk without knocking into someone while he tried to look everywhere and took into every sight. 

Now he had come into the city a few times, even getting drunk - or at least tipsy - in one of its taverns, he couldn't say the place had lost its magic to him, but he could at least cross it without having to apologize every other step for having knocked into some poor passer-by. It was still as beautiful as the first day he saw it, but he could concentrate on going to his destination and left sight-seeing for when he finished his tasks.

Entering the small shop left him blinded for a short moment, the change of light from the white glow outside to the dark and smoky inside left him stuck at the doorstep trying to recover his eyesight. This store, regardless of its inauspicious aspect, was a wonderful source of business for Harry. The owner was an adventurous smith who liked to experiment. He had been born at those shores, but his ambition was to create a weapon better than the ones built in Aman. He had been a young elf when the War of Wrath had happened and caught sight of the golden weapons yielded by the Vanyan warriors. Barring a dismissing number of weapons carried or inherited by the Exiles, those weapons didn't exist in Middle Earth anymore. 

Artano had become obsessed with the purpose of forging the perfect sword, which would compare and even surpass those weapons he had barely gotten a glimpse of years ago. Harry found his ambition... well a bit foolish and reckless to be honest. But it appealed to his Gryffindor's heart, and he supposed that Ost-in-Edhil was a better a place to fulfill it than any other, taking into account his Lord was said to be one of the few remaining Exiles alive in Middle Earth, and a smith to boot. 

As for Harry's purpose in that shop, well, he had become a bit of a gatherer of strange materials and books. When Harry had first crossed into Middle Earth, after he had recovered from the crossing of the Door, he had been lucky enough to meet one of the elven Wandering Companies. They had taken him with them, finding him disoriented and barely talking any sense and took him to the nearest thing they had to a leader: Gildor Inglorion. Harry had eventually realized that Gildor believed him to be one of the Reborn. Apparently, elves weren't able to cross the Circles of the world and were bound to return to life if they were killed. Harry's ignorance of the world, their history and even the language had been taken as he had been killed very early in the First Age. 

His ancestry had been a matter of debate, Harry had been quick enough to claim to have no memory of his past. There had been a lot of discussion about if he belonged with the Eldar or the Avari. Apparently, his looks were a bit mixed. His slight body and height - _he was taller than he had been when he was mortal but damn! Still short if compared with many other elves_ \- marked him as one of the Avari, or at least a Green or Grey elf, the Nandor or the Sindar. However, as usual, his green eyes contradicted all the other theories. Its unnatural colour, far too green, and its unearthly glow was reminiscent of the Aman born. He had even heard some speculation about one known family where the younger red-heads had been known for having green eyes. Harry had found that hilarious but shot down that line of thought. Already by then, he had understood that to be associated with the Feanorions was a notably bad idea. He put an end to the rumours claiming that he was of Sylvan ascent although he couldn't remember his family, that also made him younger and less interesting to the curious which suited him just fine.

Gildor had paid no attention to the rumours anyway. Once it had become clear that he had no family to claim as his own, he had adopted him into his company. Even with his strange manners and even stranger magic. Gildor was the only one in this unfamiliar new world who was fully aware of Harry's abilities. He had solemnly listened and watched the full list of things Harry had admitted to being able to do, and after that, he had advised him to keep his skills as hidden as possible. Magic of that scope had been only seen among the Maiar and the Valar, and Gildor had never heard of any elf capable of them except for those with Maiar blood. Currently, there was only one family claiming that blood: Luthien's descendants. Harry had, by then, been aware of the main points of Middle Earth's story and had been quick to point out that Luthien descendants and their whereabouts were well known: one lived with the High King and the others had chosen the mortal path. Gildor had calmly reminded him that not all the family's members’ fates had been accounted for: there were two elven twins lost to the Second Kinslaying. Harry had decided to take Gildor's well-meant advice and kept his abilities hidden, lest he be confused with any other famous family member and got into trouble for it. He didn't need any help with that, thank you so much.

Gildor had taught him all he needed to survive and he had given him a life and a family to return. The Wandering Companies were a mismatched group of elves who didn't want to be tied down to any elven Realm and didn't want to leave Middle Earth just yet. They had been there since before the rise of the Sun and the Moon, and through the Ages had been composed by different people with different purposes. At this Age, Gildor's people were mainly misfits who wanted to travel and see the world. Harry felt right at home with them, never having a home of his own, he was used to forming his own family from the friends he made.

However, as much as he enjoyed that lifestyle and how much he had learnt from the Wandering elves, after a while he felt the need to explore on his own. Gildor surprised him by preempting him. He was a very intuitive elf and had realized, even before Harry did, that he would eventually need to strike out on his own. He bid him farewell with his blessings and advised him to consider the Company his home anywhere he went. Harry almost reconsidered his decision, never having found that kind of acceptance anywhere else in his short life. But he decided to honour what he had been taught by his friends. 

To what it would have been no one's surprise back home, he had taken a job as an adventurer, travelling around fighting beasts, looking for treasures, and rescuing helpless travellers. It was a job right up his alley and he loved it. Artano and he had met when Harry rescued him from a nest of trolls he had been unlucky enough to cross paths with. Harry had been following their trail and saved the unlucky smith. It was then when Artano and he struck a friendship, while Harry didn't know anything about smithing, he had been charmed by the strange quest his friend had chosen. As for Artano, he had found Harry's attitude to danger a source of both admiration and terror. He had tried to convince him to go with him back to Ost-in-Edhil and train to be a smith. 

Harry had followed him back to the elven city, intrigued by his descriptions of its beauty and the gathering of wise and able people it attracted. Harry had a half-formed idea of researching a bit more about his own circumstances in a place like that. However, soon he discovered that the city attracted many smiths and engineers, but little of other fields. He stayed for a while learning smithing at his new friend's shop, but it was soon clear that it wasn't his fate to work at the shop. While he had a good eye for jewellery and other small items, he hadn't enough upper body strength to work daily at the forge, neither the interest to work in it longer than the length of some project that struck his fancy. He could be a good helper or experimenter, but he didn't have any interest in creating other people’s knives or swords to their specifications.

However, he took advantage of what he had learnt at his friend shop and turned back to adventuring now with an eye out for interesting materials to make items or new books with exotic new techniques. Artano had accepted that he was more useful out there gathering than expending all his time at the shop, so they had made a new deal: Harry would divide his time between adventuring and working at the shop from time to time, he would bring back interesting items and he would be ceded the use of space at the workshop and materials to make his own experiments. It suited both of them well enough and Harry was very happy with the agreement which gave him the liberty to explore this new world and a place to go back and research as he had found he was very good at. Also, it was a good source of income to keep with his lifestyle. Artano paid well for many of the items he recovered and for some of the more successful experiments at the forge. Even with Harry keeping the magical items from his friend's sight, he was able to create some interesting jewellery and household items to sell at the shop among his attempts. 

He could have kept living like this quite content, at least for a while, if it wasn't for the visitor who came into the shop that same day: Celebrimbor, Ost-in-Edhil's main architect and Lord. The best of the remaining smiths in Middle Earth.

he was also very hot...

* * *

Harry came back to the present to see Celebrimbor moving slightly in his bed. They had gotten a passage in one of the Numenorean's ships which sailed to Lindon. The marine who had sold them the passage had looked at them with some suspicion, ostensibly trying to place their faces. Harry was moderately sure he wasn't a face known to the men, but Celebrimbor was a well-known figure. Also, his family was a pretty infamous one. He wasn't sure what the Numenorean's posture about the Feanorian was, and he hoped they wouldn't be forced to discover it here and now. Fortunately, the man had finally decided they weren't dangerous or interesting enough and let them in the ship without further queries. Still, Harry and Celebrimbor had decided to keep out of sight of other potentially better-read men in the ship. 

The situation had made the cabin they were holed into a bit claustrophobic because both of them had diverse experiences which made them wary of being in a closed place. Harry had been able to bear it better than Celebrimbor because he was used to being forced into uncomfortable situations, but the Noldor had started to suffer from nightmares.

It was heartbreaking to see him go through those terrible dreams. Harry could see only the external manifestation when Celebrimbor let out small whimpers and thrashed around, but he had a fair amount of imagination to figure out what was going through his former lover's mind.

Yet, there wasn't much the wizard could do. Celebrimbor's nightmares were probably connected with real memories of what he had suffered. He would need to deal with what had happened to get past those dreams. And Harry was fairly sure he wasn't the best person to help his former lover to deal with the violence he had suffered at the hands of the lover who had followed him - _well, overlapped really, but Harry didn't want to think about it_. 

Still, he couldn't stay there at the cabin and watch Celebrimbor thrashing around for much longer. He decided to risk getting outside and get some air, the sign of Celebrimbor thrashing around was getting too much and Harry feared if he stayed he would end doing something stupid, on more than one level. Like getting in the bed with the other to calm him down, maybe.

Best to leave while he had the strength to do it and leave the healing for someone impartial.

* * *


	5. What to do with the time that is given us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Celebrimbor arrive at Lindon and they will have to fight: warm welcomes, strangling hugs and introductions if they want to find some rest. Harry is tired already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter quote: "“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.  
> "So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” I am surprised it has taken me this long to put this quote for a title as it is one of my favorite lines, although I was doubting if this come straight from the books, and it does! It is in my opinion such a mix between optimism and pessimism that it just right and fitting for this story as well. 
> 
> I fear this chapter is a bit silly, Harry and just everyone are being a bit childish but I think this is mainly because of the relief they feel to be alive and together again. I will be introducing some important people here, both for Harry and the story.
> 
> betaed by books4life16, thank you so much as always!

"Celebrimbor! _elen sila lumenn omentielvo!_ Thanks to the Valar you are alive! We thought you lost".

That was the greeting Harry and Celebrimbor heard when they set foot on the deck. A venerable figure dressed in grey and browns appeared before them and Harry was barely able to glimpse a few of his features before he swept Celebrimbor into a hug. 

Harry kept an eye on the elder mariner, but tried to give them some privacy watching the harbor and the rest of the people meandering around. That helped him to keep a discrete distance from the two hugging elves. The older elf identity was unmistakable even to Harry, who was almost positive he wouldn't recognize Gil-Galad unless the King was wearing a big crown and was followed by a huge retinue. 

This elf was thankfully easier to identify, clearly a mariner, old even for an elf, and with the most significant quality: a full beard. 

He could only be Cirdan the Shipwright, one of the highest and most noble of the Sindar, according to Gildor's lessons. Celebrimbor and he were clearly acquainted going by his greeting and Harry wondered if he should leave them to their business while he explored the town and look for news. Surely this wise elf would be a good choice to help Celebrimbor with his trauma. The whole week they had been sailing, Celebrimbor's sleep had been a combination between nightmares - bloody, screaming, nightmares which had forced Harry to put up some sound guards up to keep the noise inside - and straight insomnia - after the first three days of bad dreams. 

If they had been back home and Harry was in the position of giving advice to his former friend, he would have sent Celebrimbor straight to a psychiatrist. He wasn't sure if the elves had something similar around here, but he suspected that their opinion would be similar to the Wizardry World where mind-healing was still a stigmatized branch of medicine mostly sponsored by some muggle-born.

"Istyar, this is Lord Cirdan of the Sindar and an old friend of my family. Cirdan, this is Istyar of the Wandering Companies a... friend of mine, and the reason I am alive today to talk to you" - Celebrimbor waved Harry closer and introduce him to the venerable sailor. Harry courteously placed a hand to his chest and said.

"There was barely a need for introduction my lord. Gildor has talked me well of you and I am honoured to finally make your acquaintance" - Harry said, his lessons on manners drilled by Gildor finally paying off - take that Snape - he could be humble and courteous if he wanted. He just usually didn't.

"Then indeed we are even. Gildor has also talked me well of you. He will be happy and relieved to hear you are here and well. He has been very worried about you after receiving the message you sent" - Cirdan said, returning the gesture and smiling down to the shorter elf. Harry felt his eyes go wide at this words.

"Gildor is here?" - he asked breathlessly, almost faint with relief. He had been constantly worried about his friends' fate, fearing his message wouldn't have arrived in time.

"He was in his way North when Ost-in-Edhil was attacked. Your message reached the Companies closest to the city and they forwarded it to Gildor while they escaped. Gildor, who was by then close to Lindon, decided to go to Gil-Galad in-person to share the news with him. This wasn't the kind of information he wanted to risk a delay if he could deliver it in person"- Cirdan explained, leading both of them out of the harbour and towards some horses who seemed to be waiting.

"Were you waiting for us Cirdan?" - Celebrimbor asked surprised. Cirdan smiled in response.

"I had work to do around here, so it wasn't a bother to keep an eye on the ships arriving. We weren't sure how or if any of you would come this way. Your message to Gildor seemed quite rushed young one" - he smiled to Harry, who blushed hotly wondering how far his letter had reached. Cirdan placed a kind hand on his shoulder, reading his emotions far too well to Harry's peace of mind - "Gildor had to share your message and some information about you with Gil-Galad to avoid any... reckless choices on the King's part" - Cirdan said kindly - "He hasn't broken any confidences, although the little he shared has made the King and his Herald very anxious to meet you"

Harry smiled back a bit sickly, the last thing he had wanted in all this mess had been to stand out to the Elven High King's attention. Harry had learnt long ago to stay away from the notice of authorities, the press and the people in power. That attention was extremely fickle and it usually came with a hidden agenda or strange expectations, such as Harry suddenly being obligated to show at certain events or the obligation to kill dark lords. Given the fact that the closest dark lord was actually some kind of angel or demi-god - as far as Harry's understanding of Gildor's explanations had gotten him - he much preferred to stay well away from the bastard. The small glimpse he had gotten in the tower had been more than enough for the wizard. He had felt the power and the malice of the dark being finally unleashed from his 'kindly' facade of Annatar. Harry had only been able to bypass his wards because of the element of surprise.

They had reached the set of elven-horses and Cirdan, getting on top of the chestnut one, waved them to chose between the remaining two. Harry chose the black bay stallion. He didn't care one way or another, both animals were beautiful elven's horses clearly coming from the King's stables, but the black one's eyes remind him of Padfoot. The fact that Sauron's mount had been also a black stallion - and probably would bring bad memories to the older elf - was only a passing thought, Harry reassured himself without looking at Celebrimbor's grateful expression. 

Once they were on their way to the palace, Harry pressed Cirdan for further news about his friends and adopted family. Cirdan was pleased to be able to calm his fears.

"Gildor arrived four days ago, riding hard, and went straight to the King. He created a commotion with his arrival and his actions. Some of the most... conventional members of the King's Court weren't happy that he was allowed to the King's rooms with barely any explanation. But anyone who saw Gildor Inglorion that day couldn't deny that young one's ancestors" - Cirdan commented amusedly. 

Harry repressed a smile. Gildor's parentage and history were a well-kept secret, one Harry had always respected even though he wanted to know. Elves were, even in the worst situation - like Celebrimbor's - very opposed to renounce their name or families. So Gildor's decision to avoid confirming his parentage - despite rumours and speculation - was, at the very least, unusual. Funny enough, it was a similar situation to Harry's although in his case the reason was literally that he couldn't name a family because he had been dropped from another world. 

Gildor had respected his silence and he had probably made his own assumptions. How close they were to the truth, Harry didn't know, but he respected his friend's desire to keep his own family's story to himself. Still, he couldn't wait to tease him for the details of the scene he had made at the palace. It was bound to be hilarious to hear how he had scandalized a bunch of stuffy elves. 

"So Gildor went straight to the King and gave him the news? Using my letter as proof of what he was telling. That must have gone well" - Harry commented shaking his head at his friend's antics. Cirdan laughed cheerfully.

"Oh, well... Mind you, I am not given to gossip but I know Ereinion and I don't want you to be surprised when he greets you as 'the one whose letter was so pressing Gildor had to interrupt me when I was entertaining'" - Cirdan explained. Harry felt his face go hot at the implication.

"Entertaining..." - he trailed off, unable to actually ask. Celebrimbor, who had been very quiet so far, barked a laugh.

"Gildor is going to pay for that! Gil is always complaining about him trying to steal his lovers with the most ridiculous excuses" - Celebrimbor smiled, his humour lifted at his cousins' antics. Cirdan nodded in response.

"Yes, there has always been some pique between those two. Now they aren't even trying to hide it... actually" - then he looked to Harry thoughtfully - "I suspect you are going to become some kind of a turf-war between those two" - Cirdan warned the youngest elf. Harry looked back to him blankly.

"Me? What do I have to do with this?" - he asked warily. Cirdan smiled ruefully.

"Gildor has been very...complementary of you. He had to, to make the King understand the situation and make him trust both of your words until we got some independent confirmation... But neither of us believed you would be able to rescue Celebrimbor from Sauron's hands" - Cirdan admitted. Harry kept silent to the implied question, and Celebrimbor followed his lead keeping his face blank at Cirdan's look. 

Cirdan didn't seem offended at their reluctance to share their experience, but he warned them.

"I won't press you for more, I can imagine this won't be an easy tale to tale, but..." - be warned - "Ereinion will want to know the truth and he will ask as the King" - he said. Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalant.

"He can ask in whatever capacity he wants, that won't change my answer. Word was out about Annatar's true identity and the orcs were swarming into the city. I knew Celebrimbor wouldn't be able to escape, so I went to help him. I don't know how any other details will help anyone as the city has been destroyed by now. As for him asking as the King... I have sworn no oath of fealty to anyone. His title makes no difference to me" - Harry said firmly. Cirdan and Celebrimbor looked at him surprised because they hadn't expected that answer. The philosophy of many younger grey and green elves of keeping away from rulers - and rules - was hard to understand from the older elves' perspective. 

"But you belong to Gildor's Company, don't you? And he allies with the King" - Celebrimbor questioned. Harry spared him a glance aware that, while Harry didn't have to answer any question Gil-Galad made, the older elf felt bound to the High King's authority. Celebrimbor hadn't seen much of Harry's powers but he had seen enough to make Harry's life complicated if he passed that information along. He wondered if he should have tried his hand Obliviating him. Or if he should be turning back now before he was under the King's roof.

"I come and go as I wish. Sometimes I stay with them, mostly I travel alone. Gildor doesn't ask his people to swear any oaths of fealty to him or anyone else, only to behave for the wellbeing of the company as long as you stay with them. And leave if you feel your loyalties may enter in conflict" - Harry observed. Cirdan and Celebrimbor shared a complicated look at his words, uneasy. But Harry kept his gaze fixed on the already visible castle before them.

* * *

"Celebrimbor, _Mae g'ovannen!_ my friend. We feared you lost but I have never been happier to be wrong" - that were the words the High King used to welcome them to his presence. Harry however, didn't pay attention to them - or to him - because he was being smothered by Gildor's arms. He hadn't thought the older elf was a tactile or effusive elf, but he had been clearly holding back on his true nature all this time. Harry feared it was too late to run now. 

"Istyar! You are not leaving my sight for the next century _vinimo_. You think you can send a letter like that and disappear for a fortnight? It's outrageous, you better hope it is a long time before you see Ranyare next because she is not happy with you" - Gildor babbled, very unlike himself while he alternated hugging Harry to his chest and scolding him. Harry figured he had really scared the poor elf if he was behaving like this. His sympathy was fleeting anyway, dismissed by the other elf's attempts to kill him now by asphyxiation.

"Gildor! Please, leave the poor child to breathe, he is turning blue" - a smooth, calm voice interceded then. Harry was too busy trying to keep Gildor's arms at bay, now he had given him some space to breathe, to spare a look to check on the new voice. Or to thank him for the rescue. He hoped his returning healthy colour was enough proof of his gratitude.

"Yes Gildor, seriously. You can't stand there trying to strangle me while you scold me for not sending you updates of my whereabouts every other day! If I had known this was waiting for me I would have sent Lord Cirdan and Celebrimbor ahead with a note! And hide in the forest for a few more weeks" - Harry complained now he was starting to get his breath back. 

An amused laugh interrupted Gildor's predictable tirade, making both Gildor and Harry turn towards the noise.

"Gildor I would like to formally meet this friend of yours who has made such a rescue, the likes of which hasn't been seen on Middle Earth since my father's time. I hope you would be so kind to do this before you kill him or abscond with him. Actually, you better introduce us now before I lost all patience" - the King and Celebrimbor walked closer to the pair. 

Now Harry had his breath back, and some space from Gildor, he took a good look to the current High King of the elves on the West: Ereinion Gil-Galad. He was surprised and trying to hide his reaction although, by the King's amused face, he wasn't very good at it. 

Gil-Galad was a very nice looking elf. His face was kind and his bearing royal. Even without his crown Harry thought he would have been able to spot him as the King. He wasn't, however, the stunning handsome male Harry had been expecting, as both of his cousins were. He was nice but plain, and that was something Harry hasn't expected coming from the family he came. The Finwions were a famously striking set of princes and kings who had arrived to Middle Earth ready to rule it just by their looks, if stories were to be believed. While Harry had a healthy skepticism about those high tales, he had to admit the specimens he had met of that family filled the bill: both Celebrimbor and Gildor, whoever his parents were he obviously belonged to one of the branches, were both incredibly handsome. 

Harry hadn't been able to hide his reaction, but the King seemed well used to this and chose to take it in good humour, with a wry smile, and was kind enough not to shame Harry by making any comment on it. Harry decided to share the humour and smiled sheepishly back. 

"Your Majesty, this reckless..." - Gildor cut himself off at Gil-Galad's wry look and sighed - "Allow me to introduce you to one of the newest members of the Company, Istyar Aranion. Istyar, this is Ereinion Gil-Galad High King of the Elves in Middle Earth" - Gildor said ceremoniously but in a slightly mocking voice clear to his audience. Obviously, he was annoyed about having been cut off from his tirade.

Harry resisted the wish to roll his eyes, but only just, fearing it would be taken as disrespect towards the King. Although when he locked gazes with Gil-Galad, he suspected the older elf was fighting the same impulse. Despite Harry's wish to keep a low profile, he started to warm to this King who seemed already more in touch with his people, and more humble, than any of the Ministers in Harry's time.

"It is an honour to meet you, your Majesty. I have heard only good things about you and your rule" - Harry touched his hand to his chest in the elven signal of respect. Gil-Galar nodded courteously in response and smiled down - why those people needed to be so tall! - to him.

"It is my pleasure Istyar. Just by your friendship with my cousin, I will happily welcome you to my Kingdom. He had nothing but good things to say about you" - he threw a fond look at Gildor before he turned back to Harry and locked his intense grey-eyes on him - "But you have rescued Celebrimbor from a fate more terrible any of us dare to imagine. We feared his death would have been his only mercy, so we prayed it would come soon. But he is here now, none the worse for wear as far as I can see" - Gil-Galad looked back to Celebrimbor who had stayed uncomfortably in the background, next to an unknown dark-haired elf who Harry hadn't seen to arrive, and clearly ashamed by all the fuss made about him.

Gil-Galad turned back to Harry. 

"...and I can't explain it or thank you enough for your actions" - Gil-Galad had closed the space between them while he talked and took Harry's hands between his. Harry was feeling heat on his nape, and he feared he was blushing tomato-red by now. Gildor's none-too-kind laugh confirmed his guess - "You have my gratitude and anything I can do for you, you have only to name it" - the King concluded warmly, keeping a hold on Harry's hands. Harry was mumbling his excuses, trying to get out of this uncomfortable situation when the strange elf - who Harry now realized was the one who had saved him from Gildor's not-so-kind strangling hug - rescued him again from his social incompetence.

"Ereinion, you are overwhelming the poor child and neither he nor Celebrimbor had even been checked out yet. Or have been given food after what it has been without a doubt a difficult escape. Let's allow them a bit of breathing space before you gave our brave rescuer the keys of the Kingdom in thanks" - the dark-haired elf said wryly, coming closer to them and smiling down to Harry before he turned his attention back to the King and smirked - "He will be running for the hills if you two keep trying to scare him like this" - he concluded, including Gildor in his look on that last part. Harry smiled back gratefully to this unknown elf who seemed to have a pretty good grasp of what Harry was feeling. 

Just now he was remembering Cirdan's warning about Gildor and Gil-Galad running competition. While Harry didn't expect the King would want to bestow _that_ kind of attention on Harry, he wouldn't be surprised the two of them would use him in their war. Harry didn't have any brothers - or sisters - but he had lived among the Weasleys long enough to be aware of the siblings dynamics. And spot when he was being lured to the middle of one of their games.

He tilted his head to the unknown elf, trying to place him. He was clearly in the King's confidence and Harry knew the answer to his identity could only be among a handful of names. Gil-Galad was known as a kind and fair ruler, but there wasn't many people who could claim to have his ear. This was one of them without any doubt, the way he had addressed the King talked about a long-time familiarity. Harry was almost positive this was Gil-Galad's Herald and younger cousin Elrond Perendhil.

"Thank you, my Lord. The journey has indeed been long and at least I am almost ready to find the first available flat surface and laid there until the morning" - Harry turned back to Gildor in question, trying to prompt him with his eyes to get him away from here. Gildor seemed disinclined to agree.

"Don't look at me like that young one, if you think you will be able to slip away without being thoughtfully checked over, you have lost whatever little common sense you had" - Gildor chided him, not without fondness. He signalled his companion, finally introducing him - "Lord Elrond is an accomplished healer and you will let his staff take a look at you. You won't hide, you won't slip away through the window when they turn their backs on you. You won't lie about what hurts..." - Gildor started to list. Harry sulked while the King and Celebrimbor looked on speechless.

Elrond was made of sterner stuff because he took Gildor's words in stride and fixed Harry with his own stern look in response to Harry's 'friend's' words.

"You will be coming with me now, I can see you will benefit from my personal attention" - Elrond said with a gesture of his hand. But Harry had avoided worse than Elrond in those matters, and he had an ace up his sleeve. Time to try his more Slytherin side.

"It is a pleasure to meet you my lord. I have heard of you, and the rumours of your skills have reached far. But I can't accept your kind offer as I fear there is someone who needs your care much more than me. Your cousin was tortured by Sauron himself. Although I have helped him to the best of my skill I believe he would benefit from your 'personal touch'" - he said with his eyes wide-open pouring out innocence, barely believing the lengths he would go to avoid the healing halls. But he was happy enough to throw Cel under the bus if it freed him from that fate. He more than owed him anyway. 

The rest of the room turned suddenly to the quiet, far too quiet now they thought about it, Feanorion. It was almost unnatural for one member of that family to stay this long on the background, even for the kindest of the lot. Cirdan, who was closest to him, took him by the shoulders.

"Tortured! By Sauron! By the Valar Celebrimbor! I thought Istyar rescue you from some dungeon before that traitorous Maia reached you. Why haven't you said anything before? I would have led you to the halls first thing. Ereinion could have waited..." - Cirdan said worriedly, visually scanning the other elf looking like he was expecting to find open-wounds he had missed before. Celebrimbor looked uncomfortable at the attention and Harry felt a pang of fleeting guilt, which quickly vanished with his next words.

"I didn't say anything because I feel fine Cirdan. I would have explained everything once we had time to talk" - he said unconvincingly. He clearly had little interest in sharing his story with Annatar/Sauron. His next words were obviously an attempt to turn the room's attention back to Harry. Harry felt irritated with himself by his lack of awareness. They had done this before, this game of sending others' attention back-and-forth between them had been one they had played all the time at Ost-in-Edhil before everything turned to hell. He should have run when he had the chance - "Harry made an extraordinary work healing me. I don't know what he did or used but even my ribs barely bother me even when I was riding" - Celebrimbor concluded, throwing Harry a challenging look. 

Harry, _this time_ , rolled his eyes in response. Now he was scrambling for an answer which didn't compromise his secret too much while the heads of the others turned again towards him. This was starting to look like a tennis match.

Fortunately, Elrond was losing patience with the two of them and gave him a break unknowingly.

"Well, right now I don't care who is healed or have been half-way healed by someone. The two of you are coming with me and I will _personally_ attend you both" - Elrond said with a final tone of voice which broke no discussion. Harry was still tempted to argue but the King, who hadn't left his side all this time and seemed to be quite a tactile person, threw an arm around his shoulders steering him towards the doors while he talked.

"I agree with Elrond. There will be time enough to explain what exactly happened this past week. And I would make a poor host if I left my guests to faint into some flat bench within my halls, wouldn't I? Gildor, Cirdan wrestle down that fool if you need and bring him to the healing halls. I am sure I can get Istyar to come peacefully" - Gil-Galad said cheerfully while he moved. 

Harry was tempted to duck away from the arm, and climb out a window just on principle. But he could feel the steel not only in the muscles surrounding him - and that was... well nice - but in the grey-eyed gaze of the King. This was an elf who knew how to use his skills to fight and win a battle. And he had chosen to make Harry's transfer to the healing halls his latest one. Harry suspected he would call the guard on him if he tried to run away, or wrestle him down to the floor maybe. Harry suppressed a sigh of despair and wondered what was about him who made powerful people took notice of him this fast. 

He saw Gildor's badly hidden smirk and swore silent retribution at the older elf. His only consolation was Cel's complains behind him while he was literally dragged by Cirdan and Elrond - Gildor had managed to pass that task to his more than willing cousin - at least Harry was a bit more inconspicuous. All he could be while being under the arm of the High King of the elves.

Harry hated his luck. And Gildor. 

And dark lords in general.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Mae g'ovannen!_ : well met  
>  _vinimo_ : little one, in quenya. Gildor is showing his age here  
>  _Ranyare_ : One who Wanders (ranya+r) Female (e)  
>  _Aranion_ : Free (aranya) Son of or Boy (iôn).  
> I realized I needed to give Harry another name, with the elven convention of having several. Ranyare gave Harry this name, in honour of his free spirit. "Ara" prefix also means noble, which she slipped through Harry's lack of knowledge of Quenya at the time.  
>  _elen sila lumenn omentielvo_ : tipical elven greeting or blessing both. A star shines in the hour of our meeting.


	6. Not all those who wander are lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry tries his hand to plan the great escape, Middle Earth's style. With less danger of course, although Elrond may get his revenge later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Not all those who wander are lost" - does this quote needs explanation :D anyway it's not wholly fitting with Harry's actions, but he wanders off so I thought it fun to put here. He will _try_ not to get lost...  
> This chapter is humbly dedicated to Ian Holm, who has left us this week after sharing with us so much of his talent. May he rest in peace with the satisfaction of a work well done, his portrayal of Bilbo will live always in our hearts. All my love to his family.
> 
> betaed by books4life16

Celebrimbor laid down on the bed tiredly while Elrond walked away from him to confer with some of his healers. His younger cousin hadn't said much, but he was clearly at loss about some of the conclusions he had gained from his examination. Celebrimbor didn't blame him, he didn't have any rational explanation to give either. 

Through all his life his focus had been the forge and the creation of things, but no elf currently living on Middle Earth was entirely ignorant about the healing arts. Celebrimbor was aware of how poor his condition had been after leaving Ann...Sauron's presence. But now, besides the all-encompassing tiredness - the outcome of several nights of nightmares, not the torture which had come before - he felt none of the effects he knew he should be still suffering from A...Sauron's cruelty.

Celebrimbor had seen the proof of Morgoth's main lieutenant's efforts many times in the past - before the Maia had disappeared from elven sight after Morgoth's defeat. Those elves had been both mentally and physically scarred for life. Fortunately, Celebrimbor's own experience had been limited by the short time he had been on the other's hands before his rescue. In that interval, Sauron had used an assortment of tools for his torture of Celebrimbor, some the elf had recognized, most he hadn't been able to figure out their use before they had been employed on him. The few hours he had been on the dark Maia's hands had been endless, he couldn't imagine having to endure that pain for as long as elves like his uncle had, and retain his mind. 

Istyar, despite his claims of not being a true healer, had done a miraculous job of healing him, physically at least. Celebrimbor was able to recognize - with the little he knew of healing and how he had felt before Istyar had treated him - that he should be barely standing, and that was not even taking into account the riding they had done to make to the harbour and the sailing to Lindon. Whatever Elrond was getting from his checking, some of his former condition must be showing and that was what was mystifying Elrond and had him checking Celebrimbor more carefully he had been checked in his life. Even taking into account that Sauron was the reason for Celebrimbor's wounds, he was sure the other elf had been more exacting than necessary.

Istyar's own examination had been delegated to one of Elrond's apprentices, much to the younger elf's visible pleasure. The green-eyed adventurer had been looking speculatively towards the different exits of the room from the moment they entered the room and particularly once the King had been distracted by one of his counsellors. Gil-galad had been keeping an amused eye on the younger elf all along, clearly recognizing a fellow escapist, but he had been diverted by one of his older advisers and Istyar seemed to have decided it was the moment to make a run for it. 

Celebrimbor was warring with his own conscience. While he felt he owed the younger elf more than he could ever repay, and that Istyar would count any obstruction to his flight as a new - _lesser, but still one_ \- betrayal, still he couldn't in good conscience allow his saviour to leave the healing halls without being fully checked over and giving the seal of approval of Elrond.

Fortunately, he had been underestimating his cousin's ability to pretend to pay attention while keeping someone under his vigilant eye because, when Istyar started to edge towards one of the room's windows - _was he really going to use the window for his escape?_ \- the young King cleared his throat and giving his companion a - _clearly fake_ \- apologetic look, walked back to Istyar's side.

"Are you feeling all right Istyar? Do you need some air?" - he asked with a solicitous voice pausing at Istyar's side and looking down at him innocently. 

Celebrimbor almost snorted at the act, and given Istyar's incredulous look, he wasn't believing the other's elf innocent act either. 

"I am alright, I just have never been at the palace before. I wanted to see how high we are exactly, and where this room faces" - Istyas said slyly, turning back towards the window and looking down to the grounds like that had been his intention all along. Gil-galad's expression didn't lose his amused mien.

"Of course, we are at the back, just above the gardens on the first floor. You can see Ered Lindon mountain range just that way" - Gil-galad explained cheerfully like he was one of his seneschals giving a tour of the palace to a guest. He was not fooled by Istyar's apparent innocent reconnaissance but he was indulging him for the moment. Istyar's sharp green eyes were looking around what he could see from the window, clearly mapping an escape route.

"Interesting view. You know? I would like some air actually" - Istyar commented looking doubtfully to the range and then turning his gaze back to the opening mechanism on the window, it was a simple lock and Celebrimbor had thought it locked but Istyar opened it like it wasn't - _Celebrimbor was a little surprised at that, knowing his cousin and frowned slightly in confusion, seeing Gil-galad doing the same at Istyar's other side_ \- The younger elf ignored them and was looking outside when Elrond interrupted them.

"You seem to be in better health than I expected Celebrimbor" - Elrond commented looking down at his notes. The three of them turned back to the healer - "You show the signs of someone whose body has been under a great deal of stress a short time ago, but there are no visible wounds, no internal bleeding and your heart and lungs work as expected" - the perendhil concluded. Celebrimbor had to smile at his disgruntled cousin.

"You sound like you are not happy about it" - he observed, aware that wasn't the case. Elrond threw him a dark look.

"I don't like the paradox of it. You have all the signs of someone who has lost a lot of blood, whose body has been under a tremendous strain, your _fëa_ is bleeding with the remembered pain of it. It can't have been longer than a fortnight from the signs I am seeing, which matches your story. However, your healing is as advanced as it would have after been months from the torture. No wounds, no scars, no strain in the heart or lungs... if I was a mortal healer I wouldn't be able to tell you have been hurt at all!" - Elrond said exasperated. 

Celebrimbor nodded in response.

"I feel alright Elrond. I am a bit tired, but I haven't been sleeping well these past nights" - Celebrimbor declared, not wanting to go into detail about his nightmares. Elrond's thoughts were somewhere else, fortunately.

"Is this your Aman-born resistance? Do you all heal this quickly?" - Elrond asked perplexed - "I have to admit, I haven't seen anything like that before, but I don't have a lot of experience with the Eldar" - Elrond admitted.

"We do heal faster that is true..." - Celebrimbor said slowly, considering his words carefully - "But I have never healed this fast before. I figured Istyar is a better healer than the others I have met before" - he admitted grudgingly. 

He was still hefting the decision of how much to tell about Istyar's actions and apparent powers he had been a witness to during his rescue. He had noticed Istyar's caution when they had talked with Cirdan, even when they had talked among themselves on the ship, or really barely talked really. He hadn't admitted anything besides what Celebrimbor had observed himself, and he hadn't wanted to explain what he had done exactly, how, or where he had learnt to do it. Celebrimbor hadn't seen - or heard - about that kind of magic from anyone besides the Valar themselves, their Maiar, and the few elves with some Maiar blood like Luthien or her descendants. But he wasn't an idiot or ignorant, he knew what he had seen and he knew it wasn't normal elven powers. And when Istyar had healed him briefly at the hill, and given him that strange concoction, he knew it wasn't like anything he had seen before. It was possible that Gildor's people had skills beyond what the Noldor or the Sindar usually know... but Celebrimbor was surprised that the leader of the Wandering Companies had kept that knowledge so close to his chest... unless it wasn't a common skill and those who had it were in danger of being targeted.

"Certainly he is an amazing healer, better than anyone I have ever heard of if he was able to heal you like this!" - Elrond admitted - "What did he do?" - he asked curiously. Celebrimbor raised an eyebrow surprised.

"Why don't you ask him your....?" - he said, turning towards Istyar, noticing when he turned that no one was behind the King's figure any longer. The open window behind Gil-Galad told its own story. Gil-galad had turned around with them and he cursed darkly.

"How did he manage to disappear like that? I didn't hear him move!" - he exclaimed, walking towards the window and looking outside trying to find the younger elf. Celebrimbor denied with a shake of his head.

"Don't bother. He is always like that, once he is gone you won't be able to spot him again until he wants it... or he gets distracted by something. But I bet he is very focused now making good of his flight" - Celebrimbor explained tiredly. He remembered the number of times the younger elf had escaped annoying elves trying to convince him to engage in some adventure or another, how many time Istyar had avoided scheming parents trying to pair him with their offspring before the two of them had been known as a couple... all the times Istyar had avoided him, ducking out of corridors and disappearing before Celebrimbor could reach him after Istyar had found him in the bed with Annatar.

No, Celebrimbor thought grimly, Istyar would easily stay out of sight if he wished, and he wouldn't be surprised if he disappeared from the palace completely and Celebrimbor didn't see him ever again. Before his dark thoughts could lead him to despair at that concept, another voice intruded.

"Not again! I am disappointed in you, Ereinion! I thought you would be able to keep him here for at least an hour, I warned you he is very slippery. Now I need to track him down and it won't be easy, let me tell you" - Gildor’s voice sounded annoyed, and the blonde sent a dark gaze to the King before he turned around in his heels and walked towards the door again. Gil-galad followed his blonde cousin, but his tone was still amused.

"Slippery! That elf is as quiet as a mouse cousin! You didn't tell me you taught your elves the art of disappearing into thin air! We were all there and none of us noticed him slipping outside the room" - Gil-galad said. Gildor turned around towards his cousin with a raised finger.

"I didn't teach him that, let me tell you. He came to me just like that, do you know how hard it is to track an elf that silent in a forest? I have been trying to make him _noisier_ actually! Ranyare even gifted him with some bells for braiding into his hair! Not the most subtle of the gifts, but he braided them happily as if it didn't matter. And it didn't. It was no use, once he wants to be silent, not even the bells dare to make noise" - Gildor complained, shaking his head before exiting the healing halls, closely followed by the King who had taken a clear interest in the younger elf. Gil-galad waved a distracted farewell to them, still discussing with his cousin.

Celebrimbor felt a constriction centred in his chest at the thought of Gil-galad taking interest in Istyar. The younger elf had stayed away since he had found Celebrimbor in bed with Annatar. But Celebrimbor, despite Annatar's efforts to keep him distracted and away from his former lover, had tried to keep in contact with him, to make amends if possible. Celebrimbor hadn't been able to talk with Istyar again since that terrible night, but he had kept an indirect eye on his former lover, trying to overcome his guilty conscience at his actions by making sure Istyar was recovering from what had happened. It was a well-known consequence of the kind of betrayal Celebrimbor had bestowed upon Istyar that the betrayed party could fade with the pain of treachery like that one. Celebrimbor couldn't stand the thought of his own thoughtless actions leading to the loss of someone... someone like Istyar.

Istyar, fortunately, hadn't shown any signs of fading as far as Celebrimbor's informants had been able to discern. He had disappeared for a few weeks - as completely as if he had never existed - much to Celebrimbor's despair - but he had reappeared then at his friend's shop looking none the worse for wear. He was thin and a bit pale sure, and he hadn't smiled at all... but he didn't look about to faint in pain, he hadn't lost any of his reflexes or skills - as the many goods he carried back to his friend's shop attested - he moved fluently and his voice carried his usual strength. Whatever pain he had felt by what he had witnessed... he guarded closely to his heart and showed just a facade of indifference. 

He avoided Celebrimbor easily because with his own well-known presence he was hard-pressed to approach him unnoticed. And Celebrimbor had noticed that most of his people had taken Istyar's side and helped him to avoid the smith as much as they could. They hadn't made a public announcement, of course, but their relationship had been well known, and Istyar's sudden disappearance had been noticed. Annatar had made sure to spread the word about their break up - despite his denials about it - with the help of his minions. It hadn't painted a pretty picture and his own people had, quite rightly, blamed Celebrimbor for his despicable actions.

Celebrimbor now realized the Maia had been all too happy to destroy Celebrimbor's image, even while he feigned he was just too taken by the elf's 'peerless beauty' and 'brilliant mind' and he had been carried away by his pride of 'having convinced' him of accepting his suit, like seducing him into a night of faithless sex had made a relationship. Now Celebrimbor understood that it had been another strategy to isolate him from the people who loved him, to make sure Annatar was his only source of... everything. So when the time came, he would be easy prey for him, and the city would be easily overtaken with its master powerless like he was. 

And it would have worked. His cousin had fled the city with her young daughter after their last bitter discussion with Celebrimbor about Annatar's trustworthiness. But Celebrimbor had invested too much in the other - and lost too much, lost _Istyar_ \- to accept by that point that he had been unworthy of it. Artanis - or Galadriel as she preferred to be called now - had departed in secret into the night just the day before Annatar's forces had attacked. And the Maia had imprisoned Celebrimbor just before the first volley hit the city walls. By then, as planned by the traitorous Maia, his council had been divided and unable to take control of the city defences and Celebrimbor was captured and unable to take control himself. The city was lost and Annatar victorious, able to use it as a spearhead for his attack in the rest of the continent.

But he hadn't counted on Istyar's strength of character or sense of what was right. His former lover, despite the months he had spent avoiding him, despite what he had seen the last time he had voluntary gone to Celebrimbor... when he realized what was happening and learnt that Celebrimbor had been captured and who Annatar really was, he had decided to rescue him. No matter the risk or the fact he owed nothing to Celebrimbor - that he was actually owed more than he could repay him - he decided he couldn't leave the smith to the well-deserved fruits of his choices. And he risked it all to try and rescue him.

Elrond had shaken his head at their cousins' antics before he returned his attention to Celebrimbor.

"Poor Istyar, I am afraid he is going to be hard-pressed to avoid those two if they are making him the focus of their rivalry" - Elrond commented, ignoring for the meantime his own wish to interrogate the young Sylvan. Celebrimbor's focus returned to his initial suspicion, the fact Istyar had clearly captured the King's attention.

"Do you think they are going to put Istyar in the middle of one of his games? I got the impression that Gildor's attention was more paternal than anything else, and that Istyar returned that feeling" - Celebrimbor retorted, fighting to keep his voice just vaguely interested like he wasn't very involved in the answer. Elrond seemed to notice nothing wrong in his tone, and led Celebrimbor back to one of the beds gently while he answered.

"I suspect that won't deter them from this game. I saw Ereinion's face before, he genuinely _liked_ your young friend, and he was more than a bit intrigued by his lack of... awe I guess, at him being the King. If Gildor just sees him as his ward, just as well. Probably Gildor will happily play the stern father figure protecting his child. He may even mean it..." - Elrond trailed off speculatively. He wasn't an elf given to gossip, but as both Celebrimbor and Gil-galad were family he seemed happy to indulge a bit of harmless speculation. He looked down to Celebrimbor's seated form and frowned, changing the subject - "I want you here for the night. I don't trust this sudden recovery and want to monitor you for a bit to make sure you don't suffer some relapse" - he ordered firmly. Celebrimbor obeyed the tone automatically without thinking, so reminiscent of his own father’s firm orders he didn't think to complain. He drank the cup Elrond gave him and he was closing his eyes to sleep before he realized he must have been dosed with some sleeping draught. 

He cursed his family’s sneakiness which seemed to be hereditary. And he cursed Sauron for putting him in this position to start. And his grandfather for having started this mess in the first place. He missed his mother's kind voice for the first time in a long time, wondering what she would think of Istyar.

Before he finally succumbed to sleep, he wondered what Istyar's mother would think of Celebrimbor and the pain he had brought to her son.

* * *

Gildor's gaze was fixed on the tree canopy trying to decide if it was worth losing his time trying to spot Istyar in them. He had little hope of finding the Sylvan in the trees if he had decided to run away into them, he could try to find him in the palace if he hadn't left. Before that, he would like to have at least an idea of where the younger elf had headed. Istyar was, by the time Gildor had met him, an expert in escaping uncomfortable situations and places. He was, however, curiously unfamiliar - forgotten he claimed - with some of the things Gildor had considered obvious which made him insanely curious about the other elf's past. It seemed strange he had forgotten even the basics of hunting or fire cooking but remembered how to read and write, in westron but not in elvish which was its own mystery. However, Gildor hadn't pressed the other, his intuition tellling him that it would only make Istyar disappear. He had, instead, helped him fill in the blanks in his education: teaching him to communicate, to live in and with nature, to hunt and cook, to survive in the wild. 

And he had turned a blind eye to Istyar's strange abilities - even in his mind he would shy away from naming them. He wasn't sure of the whole scope of them, as Istyar had quickly stopped using them in the open, but he had noticed small things. All elves could use natural forces to some extent, particularly in connection with the earth and nature. Light fire, move air, communicate with all light beings. Isyar's powers seemed to have a different root than other elves and his strength seemed to come from inside instead from his connection to Arda. His use had been usually mundane - cooling his drink, cleaning his clothes - small gestures he hide from everyone but Gildor had sometimes caught from afar. Many suspicions had crossed Gildor's mind those first months, but Gildor, who had lived in Middle Earth longer than most, had learnt to trust his instincts. And they had told him to help this young elf, to hide him, to protect him until he learnt to stand on his own. He had chosen to follow this instinct and his kindness had been repaid tenfold. Istyar had made the Companies his own family, even if he had been compelled to strike in his own, he had kept coming back to them, with his resources, the knowledge he acquired over his travels. He was one of them the same as he had been born among them, and Gildor hadn't regretted the impulse to help him. And the impulse to keep from asking about what he could really do.

Until now. A stray thought crossed his mind - while cursing Istyar’s ability to vanish into thin air - wondering if this was also one of his 'special' skills. A voice intruded in his search from behind. 

"I don't believe I have ever seen you with that look in your face. You look like you don't know if you want to wrap that young one in a blanket and protect him from all harm or throw him into the Sea yourself" - Gil-galad commented at his back amused. Gildor threw the King a dark look in response.

"Didn't I warn you to keep a close eye on him? This is your fault Gil, if you can't even keep an eye on an elf a tenth your age, you should contemplate coming back with me to the camp to train with my elves for a few months" - Gildor said shaking his head with a disappointed air. 

Gil-galad’s affronted look was almost worth this whole situation.

"Keep an eye on him! I could have if you had warned me you had him trained as one of your spies! He was surrounded by elves, many of us among the best soldiers of the Realm, and no one even heard him when he slipped through the window and scaled down the wall! What is he? Have you managed to convince the wood-elves to lend you some of their elite warriors to train your people?" - Gil-galad asked, amazed. Gildor restrained himself from laughing at his friend, aware he wouldn't have fared any better than him. Istyar _was_ eerie silent when he wanted. He was, however, not going to admit any of this to his cousin. Gil-galad's looks toward his young charge hadn't been missed.

"Forgive me, with the way you wrapped yourself around him, I had expected you to be more aware of his movements" - he observed pointedly. Gil-galad flushed slightly. 

"I was just trying to keep him calm. Just being a good host, that's all. I wasn't _wrapped_ around him" - the King defended flustered. 

Both of them had been walking down the path while they talked, Gildor still peering around the trees, tops and roots, trying to spot a sign of Istyar’s passing, Gil-galad looking around too but mostly arguing with his cousin. The King wasn't too worried about Istyar's disappearing act, he had sent word to his guards and he trusted the younger elf would be spotted soon enough for one of them. 

If any of them would have bothered to look behind them, and up, they would have seen the green-eyed figure calmly sitting on top of the palace's main roof looking down at them with watchful eyes. 

Harry serenely observed Gildor and the King while they forgot their purpose again and started to argue with each other. He kept an easy eye on them while he calmly ate from the tray of cold snacks - or whatever pretentious name they were called here - he had borrowed from the kitchens. It didn't seem either of them was going to have any luck in their search of him, worried as they were arguing with each other. At this rate, Harry would be able to avoid them until the time he had gotten some rest. He didn't want to be forced to answer any of their questions with the little rest he had been able to snatch on the ship. Rising from his place on the roof, he walked to the back of the palace, looking for a convenient window to use. A place like this was bound to have plenty of empty rooms, any of them and a well placed notice-me-not charm would do the trick to give him a few hours of rest. 

Gildor could wait as punishment for his lack of help in the healing halls. It would help him to build character. Or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eldar: I am using Eldar as Tolkien indicated in his writings, as the name given to the High Elves. I have seen it used for all elves, but as far as I can tell it is only really mean for Noldor, Vanyar and Teleri which were born in Aman in the light of the trees, or for those born at Cuiviénen who followed the Valar's summons to Aman. I imagine that for Men or Dwarves, they may use Eldar indistinctly for all elves, but the elves themselves would know better. So Elrond is using this term for Celebrimbor because he is one of the Exiles, born in Aman.
> 
> Notice-me-not charm: apparently, this is fan-made? Wow, nice fan who invented this. As it is in almost every HP fic I have read, I can't honestly find who I should give credit to. A huge thanks to them, wherever they are. It so very convenient.


	7. Justice and Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds he is a bit of his father's son after all and Celebrimbor finally talks to someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a pretty hard chapter to write and I have both mixed a bit of Harry's crazy antics and Celebrimbor's angst. I hope it works!  
> “Justice is not Healing. Healing cometh only by suffering and patience, and maketh no demand, not even for Justice. Justice worketh only within the bonds of things as they are... and therefore though Justice is itself good and desireth no further evil, it can but perpetuate the evil that was, and doth not prevent it from the bearing of fruit in sorrow.”   
> ― J.R.R. Tolkien, Morgoth's Ring 
> 
> For this chapter I have altered a bit, a phrase of Morgoth's Ring. I think Celebrimbor is starting the looong way to healing and he will need to come to terms with what happened to him, this chapter start a bit of this so I thought the quote fitting for it. Sometimes, we confuse our desire of revenge which is usually a need to hurt who has hurts us with justice. Justice is a whole different animal. Hopefully this Celebrimbor will be able to learn this where his father, and grandfather didn't.
> 
> betaed by books4life16

Harry patted himself in the back, figuratively, feeling accomplished by his success at avoiding Gildor, Gil-Galad, Gil-Galad's warriors, Gil-Galad's butler - or whatever that position was called among the King's servants - and even Gil-Galad's cleaning staff. 

Still, Harry was a bit baffled by the King's apparent insistence in tracking him down. He had expected for the Monarch to make a token effort to track him down and then leave the whole mess in one of his assistants' hands. Gil-Galad had surprised Harry by joining the searching parties during the evening and after supper. And surprisingly he was pretty good guessing Harry's hiding places! If it wasn't for Harry's magic he would have been found out by now. As it was, he was certain that the King had confirmed Harry's lingering presence in the palace and he had made certain that the younger elf couldn't easily leave the building without actually going through someone by posting people at every door and window leading outside.

Of course, Harry _had_ magic on his side and he could easily, for example, Confound one of the sentinels and then slip outside but he felt... wrong about using magic against one of the poor guards where there wasn't any danger or threat involved. Wrong and also dangerous, he didn't want too many questions about his skills. So he kept ahead of his stalkers without using magic _directly_ against them, but he realized that he would need to make a decision soon: to use magic to escape or to allow himself to be captured. He had also the option to Apparate away from the house and into the woods outside, even into the harbor below where they had arrived. But... he realized if he left by means of magic... well, Gil-Galad had seemed a pretty reasonable elf and a kind ruler - although Harry was firm in his conviction he wasn't _his_ King - but he _was_ a King nonetheless, and it didn't seem prudent to make an enemy of him so soon after meeting him. Harry wanted to be free to wander around the elven Realm without having to be watching over his shoulder both for the Enemies' armies and the King's. So that meant to play nice for now.

But that didn't imply he needed to make it easy for the Noldor.

Looking around the library where he had found a temporary hiding place he finally decided to act as a Gryffindor and face the music. He was still a bit miffed with Gildor and not above getting a bit of payback from the older elf. He had thrown him under the proverbial bus - or carriage to be a bit more in context with his current surroundings - and he deserved to share his suffering. 

In some ways, despite being the son of a Marauder and the outrageous amount of problems he had gotten at school, Harry hadn't been a mischievous child. He was reckless, curious and - as Dumbledore had indicated - had a 'certain disregard for the rules'. But he wasn't interested in practical jokes or playing tricks on people. All his childhood, he had adored the stories of his father and his friends while at the same time hating the hint of bullying - sometimes more than a hint - the Marauders had done around Hogwarts. That had made him even warier of playing jokes on people. Despite Snape's accusations or Sirius’ disappointment, he wasn't James Potter. 

But that didn't mean he was above retaliation on people who annoyed him, ticked him off or tried to cut off his freedom like he had demonstrated with Umbridge. And Gildor had managed to get into that list. He didn't have bad intentions and that would save him from any permanent damage but Harry would make sure that the other would think twice the next time he tried to corner him. To put him in the middle of a _King's_ attention wasn't Harry's idea of fun and he would make sure Gildor would be aware of that.

Still charmed to be invisible, he walked around the library deep into his plans.

* * *

Gildor looked around the study a bit incredulous. He hadn't expected the tracking of one elf to become almost a battle plan but Gil-Galad had shown again he wasn't an elf to be underestimated. Or the extent of how much the court's life bored him. 

Spread over the study's main desk was a map of the palace and Gil-Galad was placing a few dark pieces - they looked like carved Avary soldiers - in several places.

"These are the guards I have posted on the entries and exits of the palace's rooms. Doors and windows. We haven't been able to actually spot Istyar again since he ran away from the healing Halls, but his presence has been sensed in these two wings of the palace" - Gil-Galad pointed to the kitchen area and the guest's quarters.

"What do you mean 'sense' Sire? How can you be sure he is still in the Palace if you haven't seen him for hours. Someone should have spotted him" - a brave captain asked warily at the King. 

Gildor smiled at the Noldor in response to his words. He wasn't very fond of the Noldor style of training officers which made them so wary of confronting authority, the fact that the captain had the courage to question Gil's conclusions made him noteworthy in Gildor's eyes. 

Gil-Galad clearly agreed with his cousin because he turned patiently to the dark-haired Noldor. 

"That's an important point Captain Erestor. While it's true we haven't been able to spot him, the cleaning staff has reported the movement of some items in the guest's rooms - like someone was making space to hide. And the kitchens have reported a few food items missing. Nothing major and they have reported finding a few coins in return where the items used to be, our hidden friend is being truly considerate, but clearly someone has been feeling hungry. So he is still here. In the meantime, I have posted people in front of every door and window so he can't do what he did at the halls of healing" - Gil-Galad concluded.

Gildor, who had arrived at his own conclusions about Istyar's powers in the time he had known him - including the initial weeks when he had been more than a bit disoriented and unaware of what was normal and what wasn't - wasn't so certain that the younger elf had no means to actually escape. But Istyar had tried - in the time since he had known him - to keep the things he was able to do hidden from everyone around him. Wary that word of his powers would spread to the wrong people, putting him and everyone around him in danger, Gildor had silently agreed with his decision and made a point to encourage him to keep them hidden. 

Given the political climate of the last few years, the increasing orcs attacks and the now revealed Dark Lord in the South... Gildor was happy that Istyar's powers had been kept hidden and he had avoided unfriendly attention. But he was terribly worried about what Sauron had been able to glimpse of his friend's talents during Celebrimbor's rescue. Neither of them had revealed how they had been able to escape, they had been too worried about their health so far to get a complete tale of their escape.

While Gildor was lost in the thoughts of his mind, another guard rushed into the room, almost breathless. 

"Your Majesty! We have found... the Sylvan" - the Noldor guard said. Gildor narrowed his eyes a little at the term and the tone, coming closer to Gil's side.

"The Sylvan?" - he asked in a curious tone. Gil turned his head towards him and then focused again on the guard.

"Istyar you mean?" - he asked in a warning tone. The guard straightened at the subtle warning and continued with a more deferential voice. 

"Yes, Sire. He has been... he..." - the guard seemed to have difficulty finishing his report. Gildor and Gil-Galad looked at each other disconcerted wondering what the younger elf had done to produce such a response. Gildor's face was grim in realization. He didn't know what Istyar had done _in this particular instance_ but the last few years had given him a... taste of the younger elf's sense of humor and ideas of retaliation.

"Go ahead and tell us. I can't imagine what Istyar has done in response to our... pursuit" - Gildor prompted knowing it was too late to avoid what he knew was coming. He shouldn't have allowed Ranyare to have so much influence on the younger elf.

"He has asked for parley Sire... from his Fort" - the guard said embarrassed.

Gil-Galad's face was the picture of outraged surprise. He looked at the guard incredulously. 

"Fort? What do you mean fort?" - he finally asked the most obvious question. 

"Well... Sire... he made some kind of fortification from the library's furniture and books, Sire" - the guard explained falteringly. Gildor had to turn his back to the others to hide the smile he was sporting. Gil-Galad threw him a suspicious look when he turned back again and Gildor couldn't avoid it any longer, he cracked a grin and started to laugh.

"A Fortress from books and furniture. In the library. Ranyare will be proud" - Gildor said finally between laughs. Gil-Galad shook his head exasperated.

"Now I am sure he is one of yours. What do you teach those elves in that Company of yours? They are a source of chaos and mayhem! The last messenger you sent me - who actually stayed the night at the Palace, luckily most of them don't want to sleep inside stone walls - got drunk and tried to free all the horses from the Royal stables saying they were born to be free!" - Gil-Galad said between exasperated and admiring. He didn't wait for an answer and turned back to the guard - "Well, lead the way to this Fort then" - he indicated. 

The three of them started for the library, Gildor's mind wondering what this 'parley' would implicate. And if his young elven friend was clever enough to outmaneuver the High King. 

He felt sorry for his cousin already.

* * *

Celebrimbor woke again at the Healing Halls, disoriented as he usually was when waking somewhere unfamiliar. A new wave of despair threatened to drown him when he remembered he wouldn't see the familiar rooms of his city again. Ost-in-Edhil was truly lost to Sauron's hands and it would be destroyed and defiled by now, along with any of its dwellers who hadn't been fast enough to escape. 

"I know I have already said this, but it is a relief to see you alive and whole. Physically at least" - Cirdan said from behind him, having passed unnoticed by Celebrimbor when sitting at the other side of the bed.

Celebrimbor, who had been sleeping on his side, turned on his back and looked to the older elf. He hesitated for a few moments but he saw only kindness and concern in that familiar face. He had feared judgment and scorn at his foolish decisions. So far no one had offered any of those, not even Istyar who more than anyone had the right to despise him and felt he deserved what he got. He wondered if he cut such a pitiful figure still that none of his friends and family could give him a well deserved scolding yet.

"It's a relief to be here, alive and as whole as I can be. I had lost any hope of seeing any of you again" - Celebrimbor said almost trembling at the memory. He looked around the room seeing the sun had gone down while he slept. Not many of the healers were still around and the few who still remained were making the last rounds before the night. Not seeing the familiar figure of the Sylvan, he felt a bit surprised that Istyar would have been able to avoid staying the night in Elrond's domain. He then remembered that the younger elf had slipped out before Elrond could tie him to a bed. Cirdan seemed to understand who he was looking for.

"Our young friend is... negotiating the terms of his freedom with the King" - Cirdan said in an amused voice. Celebrimbor turned back, abandoning his search, surprised at the Shipwright's words.

"Negotiating?" - he asked incredulously. He had known Istyar was bold and clever, but this was brash even for him. 

"Apparently, he doesn't appreciate 'being hunted down like an orc' and he is making the King aware of this. In compensation for his ... 'suffering', he is trying to convince Ereinion to keep him away from Elrond's clutches" - Cirdan explained. Celebrimbor shook his head, unbelievingly. 

"I am surprised Gil-Galad is playing along. Valar! I am surprised Elrond is!" - Celebrimbor remarked knowing how seriously his cousin took his healing duties, another look around confirmed that the half-elf wasn't in the halls. Cirdan confirmed his suspicions. 

"Elrond is not agreeing, he wants to examine your friend. I was there for a short time, but I got the impression your young friend is only half-joking with his avoidance of the healing halls. We all noticed he is not comfortable staying here and that it's not a joke. That is the reason they are playing along with his demands. We have all noticed there is something... else in this. How did you meet him Cel? Gildor is being very closed-mouthed about him and I don't think I am the only one finding him peculiar" - Cirdan asked with a curious-filled gaze.

Celebrimbor was torn between keeping the privacy of his friend and former lover and the knowledge that the elf before him offered no harm to him, just the opposite. Cirdan patiently waited for his answer, showing his awareness of the other's inner battle. Finally, Celebrimbor started to talk, weighing his words.

"I met him at Ost-in-Edhil. I had heard rumors about one of the shops having a great influx of new and interesting items. The owner had made a profitable deal with an adventurer and he was getting some very interesting inventory. I travelled there, curious about it and also trying to see if some of my family's belongings had found its way there... you know much of our kind's works have unfortunately ended in Troll's hoards and Orc's nests. I am always interested in trying to recover as much as I can of that" - Celebrimbor reminisced, thinking back at those calm days when he had first met the adventurer. Cirdan nodded along to show his understanding. Celebrimbor sighed and continued - "The owner of the shop was a bit reticent to confirm or deny the source of his new items. There were certainly some interesting pieces among those and it was clear that whoever was getting them was a talented new expert, able to find new nests of that disgusting beasts and get out alive. I wished to meet him and maybe, if he turned out to be trustworthy, to hire him to keep an eye on some of my family's works. Master Artano, the owner of the shop and an average smith, wasn't being collaborative so I returned from time to time to try and convince him while I studied the items he had. I finally crossed paths with Istyar on one of those visits by sheer chance. He was the adventurer I was looking for although I didn't realize at that first meeting" - Celebrimbor explained with a wry smile at his own foolishness. 

Cirdan looked interested but a bit confused.

"I can see why you wouldn't take Istyar for an adventurer. He looks too slight to be a great warrior, even taking into account the strength of our kind. But our people are known for having strength beyond what it's obvious. I take it he is an archer as most of the Sylvans are?" - Cirdan said thoughtfully, his mind focused on his memory of the younger elf. Celebrimbor laughed briefly at his friend.

"He has mastered the bow but he usually favors the sword, believe it or not with his build. He is quick and I wouldn't want to have to confront him in a duel. He has ... a particular way of fighting. Chaos and improvisation are his weapons more than the sword or bow, and a form that my father and grandfather would have both hated and loved at the same time" - Celebrimbor allowed a smile at the memory. There was little about his family he could still smile about, but originality and disregard for the rules had been something very appreciated by his grandfather in particular and Celebrimbor would have loved for him to have met Istyar. Or at least, for him to have met him before the end when his mind was still lucid and he didn't see enemies in every face.

Cirdan seemed to follow his train of thought or he had gone down the same path because he said.

"He would have been a fitting member of your family. You always encouraged original thinking and working around expectations" - he observed kindly. Despite all the horrors Cirdan had witnessed from the house of Feanor, the old Sindar was among the few who had also known them before the Oath had consumed them utterly. His words, however... Celebrimbor didn't know if he was hearing more than it was said, so he answered carefully.

"I think he would have been welcomed among our people if we were at better times and those who followed the House of Feanor could still do it without shame. We could have used someone like him when we first started to explore Beleriand. Although my father would have been driven crazy by his work style and ethics" - Celebrimbor admitted. Cirdan raised a brow in surprise.

"Work style? Is he a smith also?" - Cirdan asked with surprise in his voice. Celebrimbor laughed in response.

"Not exactly. He can create things if he chooses, wonderful, whimsical pieces and some terrible attempts too" - Celebrimbor explained with a laugh, his mind focused on some of Istyar's more extravagant experiments - "But I am told he doesn't enjoy 'pandering to Nobles looking for the latest fashion in town'. He likes to experiment with new materials, new forms, new ideas... he reminds me of..." - Celebrimbor trailed off uncomfortable, aware many people wouldn't care for the comparison. 

Istyar never shared his thoughts on Celebrimbor's infamous family. Celebrimbor thought that Istyar understood his pain and shared it in some ways. He had gotten the impression that Istyar's family was no longer among them although the younger elf avoided answering questions about his past. Istyar had avoided asking questions about other people’s pasts so it had worked for both of them. Now Celebrimbor wondered if he should have shown more curiosity about the other's past.

Cirdan interrupted his progressively darkening mood. 

"That is an interesting comparison. Many things have been said about Feanor but no one can deny he was a genius. You think this Istyar has a similar 'spark' to the one your grandfather had?" - Cirdan asked.

"I don't think Istyar is driven in the same way as Fëanáro was, or maybe it's not that that is different... Istyar's focus is not the same as my grandfather. He, Fëanáro, wanted to do more, always. To understand everything and improve it once he understood it. Istyar seems to want to _help_. His drive is always the people he meets, his challenges are always related to someone he has met, a problem they have, a necessity in someone at the shop or someone he met at his adventures" - Celebrimbor explained.

"That is commendable. And quite uncommonly so. It is rare to find someone who is not driven either by glory or power. Even among our people, or maybe I should say especially among our people. I have long believed that one of the main weaknesses of our race is our pride. Much pain could have been spared if only we could have set our pride aside and joined together" - Cirdan said sadly, his mind clearly focused in the past.

"Neither power nor revenge. Certainly nothing like that motivates Istyar. That is very different from my grandfather, or anyone in my family really. Even the 'purest' among us were motivated by the wish of power" - Celebrimbor mused out loud.

Cirdan sighed in response.

"I don't know if I understand your young friend better or not now. A drive to help certainly fits the gamble he took to go and rescue you from Sauron's hands. You two must be very close for him to risk so much" - Cirdan concluded. Celebrimbor’s hesitation gave him away - "Cel? You can't doubt his loyalty. It is no small risk he took to save you, I don't know what relationship you had before..." - Celebrimbor interrupted the older elf, agitated.

"You misunderstood my reaction Cirdan. I don't doubt Istyar's character, he has shown himself to be a brave and kind elf. I just don't believe I am deserving of him or the huge risk he took when he came to rescue me. Not after what I did to him. He should have run away to save his life, particularly as he was among those who warned me of Annatar's suspicious attitude. Particularly after my betrayal of him!" - Celebrimbor exploded, unable to keep his shame inside any longer. He tried to rise from the bed but Cirdan managed to keep him lying down. His voice took a soothing tone.

"Celebrimbor, no! You need to rest, Elrond said that your body has been through too many stresses over the last few weeks. You need to catch up with the healing you have been rushed through. Please, you need to stay down, we can talk about this later. I am sure the situation is not so dire as you fear, whatever betrayal you believe you did clearly, Istyar has forgiven you. It can't be so terrible" - Cirdan said while trying to keep him down. Celebrimbor seemed to calm a bit at the beginning but Cirdan's last words rouse him again.

"Don't judge the extent of my betrayal by Istyar's rescue. He was angry at me and I believed he would have never said another word to me if he could. But he is far too noble for his own good. For what I did to him, I deserved to have been left in Sauron's hands" - Celebrimbor explained. Cirdan tried to interrupt him.

"No one deserves to be left at that butcher's hands Celebrimbor" - he tried to soothe again. Celebrimbor laughed without humor this time. 

"I deserved to be left particularly at his hands, I would say. For what I did to Istyar with _him_ " - he concluded darkly. 

The silence after his words was absolute. Even the few people still around the room had been ushered away by the head healers once the discussion had turned so personal, so the only one around to hear that last phrase was Cirdan.

Cirdan finally spoke again, tentatively, like he feared to make the question he felt compelled to make.

"Celebrimbor... what was your relationship with Istyar.... and with Sauron?" - he finally asked.

"Istyar was my lover until... I betrayed him with Sauron" - Celebrimbor said with an air of finality, his grey eyes bright with the tears he hadn't allowed to fall until now. They overflowed and he finally started to sob all his pain under Cirdan's horrified gaze.


	8. Deeds unpraised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is defeated in his quest to avoid the healers but is still fighting. Also, some cultural misunderstandings happen here and Harry is going to need a lot of patience with his newly appointed keepers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I am not actually sure if this is canon or not, but I have read that elves reach maturity at 50? Some places say 50, others 100 but I am choosing the first one. It will become evident (I hope) why I am making this clear if it isn't already :D
> 
> For the title, it comes from this quote: "Deeds will not be less valiant because they are unpraised" from Aragorn in LOTR. Harry here actually would prefer that his deeds went unpraised :D, but people are trying to discover what he had done and he is too brave to hide.
> 
> After a conversation with my beta, I have to add a small warning and explanation to make sure no one get the wrong impression here. I will explain this in the story soon, but to make this clear: Harry is an adult here, no matter what the elves think, he is physically an adult and mentally mature. Enough with this, the reason for the warning will be clear soon.
> 
> betaed by books4life16

"And those pastries from the kitchen too. I want something sweet after all this" - Harry said firmly from his book Fort. 

He wasn't sure how he had ended negotiating his freedom like this, this time around. At least, there was less pain and curses - magical-ones at least - than usual. He reckoned he could blame this display to the fact he had spent most of his formative years under the dubious influence of Albus Dumbledore. The man had been brilliant _but crazy_ , and he had made a career of being underestimated because of his eccentric attitude, which Harry had accepted as real when he was eleven but that he had progressively found more and more suspicious later on. 

Dumbledore had used his crazy-looking robes, his sweet-tooth, and his strange and vague way of talking to masquerade the brilliant mind underneath. And he had _been successful_ strangely. No matter how many times the Minister went to him for counsel and help, he only had to offer a lemon drop in the middle of a serious discussion and people around him thought he was this grandfatherly, dotty old man, harmless and endlessly kind. He forgot the warlord general, the genius mind, the master of arcane knowledge, the powerful and influential man he had been. 

Harry had both admired and resented the man and the way he had played them all even from the grave. It had taken a lot of time and a few conversations with Hermione to finally make peace with his memories and feelings about his former Headmaster: he had been a man, a brilliant one yes, but fallible as everyone was - as he had admitted to Harry, an admission that Harry hadn't realized the full scope of at the time. He could resent him for the rest of his life or he could accept what had happened and move on with his life. He had chosen the later, and over time he had reconciled with the memory of the man. He had been, after all, a very lonely man who had chosen to live - and die - for the defense of the Magical World. His choices about Harry had shaped his life - in many ways he had suffered them - but at the end, Harry could find no malice in them, as badly as some had gone for Harry. 

And he hadn't been the only one whose choices had affected Harry: beginning with his parents, Sirius, Remus. All those people had direct responsibility for Harry's wellbeing and they all had failed to put him first. Duty, revenge, even his own insecurities in Remus' case, had been placed before Harry. Even if Dumbledore had taken care of Harry just because of the prophecy - and Harry couldn't avoid the doubt despite Hermione's words - he had been the only one who had actively _acted_. Keeping an eye on Harry at Hogwarts, protecting him from the Ministry's accusations, from the Minister attempts to expel him, from his own choices which had made him lose Sirius... in his darkest moments, he wondered how much had been caring and protection and how much grooming and training him for the ultimate sacrifice. 

All right, so he still had some issues to work out. But back to the beginning, before he allowed his mind to drift into those maudlin thoughts. If Dumbledore had taught him something, it had been how to deflect attention. If Harry couldn't avoid attention because of what he had done, because Celebrimbor's rescue was self-evident, he would make sure that their first thought when Harry was mentioned wasn't the rescue but his antics. If Harry did his work correctly, it would be a while - and he would be long gone - by the time they started to wonder again how a lowly Sylvan had been able to by-pass all the security and wards of a Maia. 

With that thought in mind, Harry returned his attention to the incredulous face of the elf before him. He felt a bit sorry for the unfortunate librarian who had been assigned to mind him while someone else went to find the King. This guy looked almost ready to explode from the frustration. 

"You want the cookies from the kitchen" - the stuffy elf repeated slowly like he couldn't believe this was his life. Harry smiled cheerfully back, given the other's reaction it may have looked a bit unhinged. 

"Exactly, do you know I haven't been offered even a small snack since I arrived at this... place? Palace or Castle or Fortress, whatever this place it is, do you know what this is? I haven't been given a tour either, I could have arrived at the wrong place for all I know! Maybe I am at the wrong place" - Harry said musingly, musing how fun it would be if he was harassing the wrong King altogether. Of course, Celebrimbor had _seemed_ to recognize Cirdan and the King, but the man had been tortured so probably his judgment wasn't the best. 

And Gildor was around too, that was a bit trickier to explain, but the older elf was a strange one, so Harry wouldn't put his money on his reasons for being at this place, or palace or whatever - Harry needed someone to clear that one up - he may just have been wandering around here and took advantage of this elf hospitality. 

Gil-Galad - or whoever he was - arrived right at that moment through the door. Harry looked to him suspiciously and his expression must have shown something because the older elf seemed to hesitate from his confident entrance, taken aback at whatever he saw in Harry's face. Harry took advantage of his pause. 

"Welcome to my Fortress my Lord, whoever you are" - he said grandiosely, waving his hand around the piles of books. Possibly-Gil-Galad looked around him looking torn between amusement and outrage. It kind of reminded Harry of Hermione, he could only imagine her ire if she had seen Harry 'disrespecting' books like this. 

"Fortress? And what do you mean 'whoever I am'? Weren't we introduced just a few hours ago?" - he asked, finally turning his gaze back to Harry and his words. 

"Well, maybe it's a Fort? A stronghold?" - Harry pondered out loud looking around and scratching his head in thought. Really, he couldn't be expected to know the difference, was he? He hadn't won against Riddle because of his knowledge of military strategy or terminology. Or because of any knowledge of anything to be honest. McGonagall had nailed it at their first year: 'sheer dumb luck' had been his primary advantage through almost all his interactions with Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

"It looks like a pile of books to me. Perhaps you should return them to their proper places now? I am sure the librarians would be very grateful" - said a new voice from the back. Harry turned to the tall and really, _really_ .... golden elf who entered the room after the Most-likely-Gil-Galad. He was blonde, even more blonde than Gildor, with light blue eyes which shined with a strange, creepy light.

"Wow, do you... polish your hair to look like that?" - he asked with admiration . It was almost like it had its own light, Harry shook himself after noticing he had started to wave around, in time with the hair. 

Almost-likely-Gil-Galad's shoulders shook with contained laughter. The other elf, however, seemed offended at the comment, touching his long hair self-consciously. Harry felt a bit bad for his comment, he didn't actually _meant_ to drive others crazy, just _mostly_ crazy. 

He realized he had the gift to drive some people - particularly organized, rule-abiding people - to insanity almost without trying. He had been trying to hone this ability as much as he could seeing it as the advantage it was.

"I am sorry Glorfindel, I didn't know you were back. This is our new... guest. He came with Celebrimbor after helping him to get away from his captivity" - Almost-Gil-Galad explained, identifying the new elf to Harry. 

Glorfindel the Reborn was a name known even to Harry. He looked to the tall blonde with curiosity. He had felt a kinship towards the other since he heard the circumstances of his death - sacrificing himself to save others - and rebirth - returned to Middle Earth without really knowing the reason but expected to fight once again. Now he felt guilty about his comment, remembering that the other elf had died after being dragged down by the very hair which had given him his name. 

He decided to give him a break. Well, sort of.

"I am Istyar and this is my Fortress, or Fort. We haven't agreed to which one yet. But you are certainly well met, my Lord. I would shake your hand, but we are in the middle of some negotiations right now" - Harry said cheerfully, trying to put the other elf at ease after his unfortunate comment.

The blonde was starting to look amused despite himself, Harry liked him for that. A good sense of humor was a plus in his book.

"This is an impressive work you have here, I hadn't realized you had been planning to redecorate, your Majesty" - he said to the King. Likely-Gil-Galad nodded helplessly.

"Neither did I. Nor my librarians I think" - the King said pointedly, turning his attention back to Harry - "How much is going to cost me for you to free these books?" - he asked, defeated and signaling the Fort around Harry. Harry smiled in triumph.

"Cookies and a free pass from the Healing Halls" - he summed up promptly, the victory so near he could almost taste it.

Until a familiar voice intruded into their discussion.

"King or not, the Healing Halls is my dominion and I won't be releasing you until I have gotten the opportunity to look you over" - Elrond said dryly, entering the room until he was next to Glorfindel. Harry made a sad face at his words.

"I am sure that if I haven't fallen over dead by now that I should be alright. Anyway, I wasn't hurt to start with, it was Celebrimbor who spent time in Sauron's not-so-tender care, he barely touched me" - he complained. Elrond grabbed at his words, quick like a snake striking.

"Barely? So he touched you?" - he asked pointedly. Harry made a face at his own words choice. He hesitated on how to answer, but his Gryffindor's honesty was impossible to overcome.

"He may have thrown me through the room at some point" - he admitted, but clarified rushedly - "But there was nothing worse than a few bruises, nothing broken at all! I got worse from my cousin when we were children" - he said quickly. 

He didn't seem to have convinced his audience. Gil-Galad and Glorfindel shared a worried look at the news and the King swiftly jumped over one of the book-made walls nimbly - using his hand to balance on the border of one of the tables that Harry had used as a base for the construction - and he was suddenly on Harry's side of the Fort. 

He tried to put some distance between them, but the King grabbed his arm and looked down at him stubbornly. 

"My dear friend, I understand that you people have a... _peculiar_ way of doing things...." - Gil-Galad said musingly, looking like was remembering some of his dealings with other Sylvans - "And while I can accept the sacrifice some of my horses to the cause" - Harry was starting to wonder how much Gildor's people enjoyed screwing with the King's people, there were some strange rivalries Harry had never taken the time to investigate - "I can't allow for a guest of mine to go untreated. It wouldn't be right" - he declared firmly. 

"I am fine. I don't need to see a doctor, or a healer, or whatever you call them. I have lived all this time without seeing any of those. Any bruises I still have will soon go away" - Harry complained trying to put some distance between him and the King. Unfortunately for him, his small fortress looked even smaller with the tall Noldor inside it with him. He hadn't planned for the company when he 'designed' his refuge.

This whole thing was becoming a bit trickier than Harry had expected. He hadn't anticipated for the King to take this much interest in him and his health. And it wasn't like he was all that _worried_ about allowing Elrond to examine him. He didn't think he would find anything suspicious in _him_ either, Celebrimbor was the one who had suffered the worst and Harry had been forced to use some potions on him which would be difficult to explain the effects - and origin - to someone with real healing knowledge. 

He tried to divert the other's attention, quickly thinking of other instances of the past where he hadn't needed any healing attention.

"I am a fast healer, you see? I once healed a broken arm overnight, and I was only eight at the time" - he said, trying to convince the others of his well being.

Gil-Galad's alarmed gaze said otherwise of his success.

"Eight? You broke your arm at eight?" - he asked worriedly, looking to the limb like he could see the evidence.

"Well... it was an accident, my uncle... anyway it healed alright you see? I didn't need to go to a healer" - he raised the arm for Gil-Galad to examine, trying to cloud over the reasons for the wound. His family hadn't been... he didn't want that kind of questions either, as far as he knew elves didn't have any knowledge of childhood abuse. It would be difficult to explain if they learnt about Harry's family.

Gil-Galad picked up the arm carefully and examined it with caution. Harry felt himself to flush with the attention and tender touch.

"You were lucky my friend, a break like that may heal wrong if it's not properly set by a healer" - Gil-Galad said absentmindedly, him hand still caressing the line of the arm like he was trying to find any strange bump, he then looked down to Harry and asked - "How long ago did this happen ?" - he asked the uncomfortable elf.

Harry was starting to feel like he had lost control of the discussion and answered the question without thinking, more focused on trying to get his arm back than in the answer itself.

"I don't know, thirty years ago I think?" - he replied carelessly, trying to move sideways to the King to put some space between them. He was so focused on his attempt that he missed the newly alarmed expression on the King's face when he obliquely admitted his current age. 

He didn't understand the fuss about this anyway, he had almost always healed on his own until he had reached Hogwarts and even then, he had only gone there when he was either unconscious or unable to avoid it. Once he had finished school, he had returned to his old way of dealing with hurts, that is: ignoring them as much as he could until they disappeared on their own. When he arrived in Middle Earth, Gildor's people had been surprisingly tolerant of Harry's idiosyncrasies contributing with their own knowledge about plants and healing. Gildor's main healer was used to the Sylvan's customs anyway - and they were surprisingly in sync with Harry's preferences. As long as Harry didn't look to be suffering in any way, they respected his way of healing as they saw it. They had been happy to teach Harry all they knew about plants, balms, creams and all kinds of concoctions they used to improve healing.

Elrond, however, was a very different kind of healer. He - as Madam Pomfrey had - preferred to make his own examinations and reach his own conclusions. Also, he had already looked into Celebrimbor's state of health and was disturbed by what he had found. For some reason, he seemed to believe that he would find his answers in Harry's examination.

Harry didn't think he was going to win this battle, but his Gryffindor spirit didn't allow him to give up until he had been dragged away to the Healing Halls.

He had - in his worry about healers and escape plans - forgotten the very real, very muscled King just before him. 

Unfortunately for him, Gil-Galad hadn't forgotten about him. The King had been closely watching Harry's features and reactions and decided his own course of action. He decided to take matters into his own hands. Interchanging a loaded look with Glorfindel he turned to the brunette and with a quick motion, he picked up the slighter elf in his arms and passed him over the barrier of books to the tall Vanya who was ready to receive him at the other side. Once Harry was out of his 'Fort', Gil-Galad jumped over to the other side again and took him back into his own arms under the amused gaze of the Balrog-slayer.

The whole operation was over in less than a minute and Harry had barely time to give a - manly - yelp before he was again in Gil-Galad's arms and being carried away from the library. He tried to get away from his captor but the King only tightened his arms around his charge without breaking his stride. He didn't even look like he was weighed down by Harry . Harry loudly expressed his displeasure.

"What?! Let me down, your Majesty. You can't pick me up like I am some kind of package!" - he said, trying to get down from Gil-Galad's arms without hurting himself or the King. The older elf didn't seem to notice his efforts, his arms like steel around Harry.

"I am sorry, little one. I am not going to hurt you. You are not a package indeed, you are a very precious treasure" - Gil-Galad said in a soothing tone, not even breaking his stride while he walked with the squirmy body in his arms. 

"A treasure? Have you gone mad?" - Harry asked, baffled by the term. He looked past the muscled shoulder to the other two elves walking behind them, a satisfied look on Elrond's face and a still amused one on Glorfindel's - "Is he mad?" - he asked them in a sotto-voce.

Glorfindel laughed in response and, sharing a look with the healer at his side, answered kindly to the young Sylvan.

"He is not mad. Just very driven little one. You have been hurt and you have very bravely travelled from the South here with our good cousin. We only want to make sure that no harm has come to you. We didn't realize you were this young, some things can be a problem later if left unattended for too long" - the blonde said carefully. Harry looked at his suspiciously, sensing an undercurrent issue he wasn't seeing.

Elrond distracted him by talking at that moment.

"I won't hurt you, I just want to take a look at you. That will help me to treat you from any lingering issue you may be feeling and it may help me to treat Celebrimbor" - he explained kindly. 

Their whole attitude and way of talking were strangely calm, soothing and kind. Not that they had been unkind before but Harry was progressively becoming weirded out by their attitude.

They finally reached the Healing Halls and Harry let out a put upon sigh . Entering the room, Gil-Galad walked straight to one of the empty beds, placing the small elf carefully on top of it and moving back, allowing Elrond to start his examination. Harry slumped in the bed and allowed the prodding with badly disguised disgust.

Celebrimbor, who had watched their approach from his bed, looked curious at their attitude, his grey eyes going from one elf to another trying to understand what was happening.

"Is everything alright?" - he asked finally to his cousin, who had taken a vigilant pose next to Harry's bed. Gil-Galad seemed to come out from his brooding when he realized Celebrimbor was awake. Harry looked suspiciously at him, that interest didn't bode well.

"Cousin! You are awake! I am glad to see you have regained some healthy colour" - the King said, walking towards the other elf after giving Glorfindel a significant look. 

Harry had too much experience being watched over by other people to miss the "change of guard" going in front of him. He gave the blonde an unimpressed look, meaning to convey how little he cared for their attitude. Glorfindel answered with an innocent look, walking closer to the bed and distracting Harry from the muttering going at Celebrimbor's bed and Elrond's prodding. 

"You talked about an uncle before" - Glorfindel commented, stopping next to the bed. Harry looked up to him with wariness, waiting for the blonde to elaborate - "Do you have a big family?" - Glorfindel asked, trying to put the other at ease with what he thought was an uncomplicated issue. 

Harry let out a breath, giving himself time to think about how to answer. It had been his experience over the last few years that he should keep his answers as close to the truth as possible. Elaborated lies about his past were hard to maintain and easy to betray when you least expected. He could invent a happy family story and it would work for a while until he let slip that he didn't know how his mother chose to punish misbehaviour or what was his father's opinion on her cooking. Or even know if any of them cooked at all. It was hard enough as it was to try and keep his past along the lines of what would be "normal" for this universe to actually try to make it harder by also changing more.

Simple and general was the best.

"Not really. My father was an only child and my mother had a sister, who married and had a child of her own" - he said carefully, aware that he was admitting much just by the verbal tenses.

Glorfindel nodded thoughtfully, quickly noticing what Harry had said.

"I am sorry young one, by your words I gather that you lost them?" - he asked kindly. Elrond, who had been noting down Harry's vitals, stopped his motions and waited for Harry's answer. Harry realized that there was again something in their demeanour he wasn't understanding. 

"They died when I was a child. I grew with my mother's sister and her family" - he admitted and when he became uncomfortable with their lingering worry he tried to easy it up - "I don't really remember them, I came to terms with their loss a long time ago" - he explained. 

Glorfindel didn't look convinced, neither did Elrond for what it mattered but he continued with his examination helping Harry to take off his clothes. Glorfindel was thoroughly distracted by the mess of bruises Harry's back and side were.

"By the Valar child! What did happen to you? Did you get involved in the fight? Is this Sauron's doing?" - Elrond asked worriedly, carefully prodding the worst of the bruises at Harry's spine. Harry tried to suppress his winces, suddenly reminded of his close meeting with Sauron's stone walls, when Elrond looked at him inquiringly he admitted.

"Indirectly I guess. I mean it was the stone walls and the floor which gave me the bruises, but he was the one who threw me against them" - he said.

"I haven't realized you had come face-to-face with him when you rescued Celebrimbor" - said Gil-Galad from where he had approached them again when he heard Glorfindel and Elrond's exclamations. The King's face was grim and serious again and Harry felt guilty for what he felt was an overreaction to his injuries. This was the reason he had been trying to avoid the examination: too many questions.

"It was... chaos, the invasion I mean" - Harry explained slowly, remembering when he first heard of it, and the first few hours of disarray - "He sent his forces to take the city and went immediately to the tower with Celebrimbor. I would have preferred not to go there when he was in residence but I was afraid there wouldn't be anything left to save if I waited. It seemed to me that he wanted to make a statement of it, and I feared Celebrimbor would be part of that, or whatever was left of him" - Harry said bluntly. 

"So you walked into a room inhabited by Morgoth's cruellest lieutenant" - Elrond said, his voice torn between horror and admiration. He shook his head, focusing again on his work and went to one of the tables starting to mix some herbs and oils into a cream.

Gil-Galad stepped up to Harry and continued his questioning.

"I can barely believe that you would survive that experience. Sauron is not known for leaving his enemies alive" - the King said. Glorfindel talked then before Harry could think of an answer.

"But he is known for underestimating his foes. I am not surprised to learn he would mistake Istyar for a helpless Sylvan and underestimate him to his detriment" - the blonde said with a satisfied tone. 

Harry nodded with his head in agreement after he pondered Glorfindel's theory.

"He didn't pay much attention to me. When I entered the room he threw me around but he was more worried about the weakness in his wards which had allowed me to get there that the fact I have entered his torture dungeon... well tower, in the first place" - Harry remembered out loud.

"And you took advantage of his distraction to free Celebrimbor and run away with him" - Glorfindel concluded. Harry shrugged painfully - he was really starting to feel again the bruises, like Elrond's touch had raised them to the surface again - while he watched the Perendhil carrying back the cream he had mixed and starting to spread it over the worst of the bruises. 

Gil-Galad talked again, looking back to Celebrimbor who had stayed silent in his bed during the discussion.

"So the two of you abandoned Sauron's presence and managed to exit the city to come here" - the King concluded doubtfully. 

"Istyar managed to get us away, yes" - Celebrimbor said noncommittally. Harry thanked the older elf discretion as he had clearly noticed his evasions. He tried to return the attention to himself to avoid his former lover being pressed into saying something unwise or becoming forced to lie - which Harry couldn't be certain he would do for him. And which Celebrimbor had shown little ability in the past.

"Sauron was arrogant and reckless. He didn't expect opposition or anyone daring to cross into what he thought was his domain already. By the time he realized I had gotten Celebrimbor's free, we were out of his reach already and I knew ways out of the city he wasn't aware" - Harry said, not untruthfully. He winced at Elrond's prodding into his side and when he looked to the healer, he found the sable-grey eyes fixed on him.

"And how did you manage to get Celebrimbor free? I am guessing he was chained down" - Elrond wondered. Harry smiled at the question, his glee at Sauron's foolishness clear in his voice.

"He was chained down with mithril's chains, too strong to be broken by elven hands" - he admitted, but his smile betrayed what was coming next - "But he was arrogant as I said. If he would have bothered to enchant the chains, to put but a small warning spell for the chance they were opened against his will... but he didn't, I only needed to pick open the lock" - he lied without guilt. He _could_ have picked the lock if he wished - life at the Dursley had taught him many valuable skills - it was just faster and cleaner to do it with magic.

Celebrimbor's gaze was burning into him, probably remembering the manacles opening in his hands without Harry touching them, but Harry took no notice of it, keeping his innocent gaze locked with Elrond's. The older elf finally seemed to take him at his word and started to pack up his bruises cream. 

"You seem to be mostly intact for all the risks you took. Your bruises are painful but I don't feel anything broken or burst inside you" - Elrond said bluntly - "I will leave a bit of this cream with you and you should use it for about three days or until the bruises disappear completely. It will numb them a bit and improve the healing" - he gave Harry a small pot of cream - "If you abstain from going after another fool to rescue them, you should be fine" - the Perendhil concluded, ignoring his cousin's offended cry. 

Harry nodded obediently and lowered his eyes to hide a smile. He liked this elf very much, he actually reminded him of Hermione: clever, kind, quick-witted... and with a sharp tongue. He watched the older elf with curiosity, wondering if here, he had found someone who may be able to help him if only he could trust him with the truth of his origins. Despite the time spent at this place and the friends he had made, he hadn't lost the idea of somehow returning to his former home and friends.

Except for the short time he had contemplated staying ... but that fantasy had been quickly smashed to bits and the image of his lover with that murderer in their bed... 

He jumped from the bed, wanting to avoid further reminiscences and bowed to the healer in respect.

"Thank you, master Elrond, I will follow your instructions to the letter. If that is all I should find Gildor to see what he wants me to do now we are here. I wouldn't take any more of your time" - he said cheerfully seeing his escape close to hand. 

Elrond's wry expression let Harry know he wasn't in the least fooled by his antics. Harry didn't mind as long as the older elf allowed him to escape his clutches. Bowing to the King and the golden Glorfindel he started to back away from the room, his focus on the door. He had almost reached it when a hand fell on his shoulder and Gil-Galad's voice reached his ear with a whisper.

"Not so fast my slippery friend. I will escort you to my cousin, there are still a few things I would like to hear about this rescue of yours. Don't think I haven't noticed my dear cousin's silence about most of it"

Gil-Galad's voice was serious but unthreatening. He lowered his hand to Harry's lower back and led him out of the room with a firm touch and a parting goodbye to the others who didn't seem bothered at the sight of their King leaving the room with a strange elf. That at least left Harry to know that, despite his omissions, he had been deemed safe for the time being. 

Well, Harry could work with that. With a scheming smile, he allowed the King to steer him around the palace in search of Gildor's trail. He would need the older elf support if he wanted to avoid telling too much about his skills and past. While he didn't suspect the King - or the others - of any malice, Harry knew that in a war against a foe such as Sauron, his skills would be far too much of a temptation for any war leader. And Harry had already seen too much of war to be certain he could survive another one in the front lines. He would help where he could - his own nature allowed nothing else - but he would avoid becoming another figurehead with every breath of his body.

Harry had a plan, he only needed to stick to it. 

Easy.

* * *


	9. Each contributes to the worth of the others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it is hard to trust, but some people are worth the effort. Harry has been living very isolated even with the friends he has made. He start to discover that maybe he doesn't need to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "All have their worth ... and each contributes to the worth of the others. Chapter 2: Of Aulë and Yavanna"  
> That's my quote for this chapter. I like it and I think it's a positive one. Harry is able to find a bit of healing here, thanks to Gil-Galad and Gildor.
> 
> This chapter is a plot filler for the next ones. There are a lot of explanations and a bit more serious tone than the last ones. I don't find it believable that Gil-Galad wouldn't press for explanations, so this is Harry trying to be as honest as he can possibly be. 
> 
> betaed by books4life16

Gil-Galad kept a prompting hand on the lower back of the shorter elf to make certain that he didn't back away from their quest. He had known the younger elf for _less of a day_ , but even in such a short time, he had already noticed that it was better to keep him in sight and, if possible, within reach.

Istyar wasn't what Gil-Galad had been expecting when Gildor had erupted into his palace - and into a _personal_ meeting - with the news that Ost-in-Edhil had fallen and their wayward cousin’s fate was unknown but that a friend of his was probably trying to rescue him.

It had been a long time since Gil-Galad had felt as helpless as he had when he realised that he could do nothing to help the cousin he had 'inherited' from his father. Celebrimbor was not only his cousin - some kind of second-cousin really, but Gil-Galad didn't have enough living family members to be picky - but he was a symbol of the _fading_ might of the Noldor in Middle Earth. The last great smith their people had, and one of the few surviving leaders of the First Age - with their other cousin Galadriel, but she had chosen to go native with her Sindar husband and his people. She almost didn't count as Noldor anymore, despite her ambitions to the throne that Gil-Galad was very aware of.

And Celebrimbor, the kindest and most noble of the Feanorians, the last of his grand-uncle's line, had almost been killed by this monster. The one who had helped Morgoth decimate their people from the beginning. And the same coward who had run away from the Valar's army when his master had been finally captured and sentenced to the Void.

Yes, Gil-Galad had given Celebrimbor up for dead. And he prayed that his death would be fast, taking into account the monster he had been facing. Gildor, on the other hand, had seemed more hopeful. He had been convinced that the young Sylvan who had sent the original message had a chance to rescue their cousin. His reasoning hadn't been very clear to Gil-Galad - an adventurer? - but he seemed to feel that the young elf's ingenuity would serve him well to slip in and out with their cousin.

Gil-Galad could barely hold onto hope, and he had thought that his golden cousin was feeling guilty about the young Sylvan's fate - and their cousin. After all, he seemed very fond of his elf and the alternative, if he had _truly_ attempted the rescue, wasn't promising.

Gil-Galad had never been so happy to be proved wrong. This slip of an elf had managed what no one could have ever hoped to manage. Now that he had met him, if he hadn't seen Celebrimbor safe and sound - and mostly whole - he wouldn't have believed it. Gil-Galad had always thought himself an open-minded elf. Given his background, he had always tried to avoid prejudice towards other people before meeting them.

But on this occasion, it had been difficult to not make assumptions. Istyar just looked so... _young_ , and not only that, he looked delicate and fragile. He seemed more suited as a courtier at his court than as a warrior who had confronted their Enemy in his lair.

Gil-Galad tried to covertly look at him, to judge him objectively. That was easy at the moment because Istyar was focused on locating Gil-Galad's cousin who had the skill to fade into thin air when he wanted. Gil-Galad had never been able to find him when he wanted to be hidden, so he was happy to let one of his own people to turn the tables on him. In the meantime, he tried to form a fair picture of his companion.

Istyar, he had been told, was Sylvan. He had the looks of it. He was short for a Noldor, shorter than Gil-Galad, barely reaching his shoulder at 6'5''. He must have been 6' at best but he was slim and graceful as his woodland cousins were. His long, dark hair fell down his back in intricate braids looking like it could easily become untamable , a few strands already slipping out of place.

But probably the more eye-catching feature was his eyes. Istyar had the greenest eyes Gil-Galad had ever seen, glowing bright in his face in a way he hadn't seen before. If he hadn't seen Galadriel's and Celebrimbor's eyes up close, he would have suspected that the younger elf had the light of the Trees shining through his eyes. But Gil-Galad knew that aspect of the Aman-born elves and Istyar’s wasn't like that. Still, whatever the reason Istyar's eyes looked like that, it made for a striking effect, especially up close.

Once you get past his eyes, the rest of his face was smooth and square-shaped. With a full mouth, clearly used to smile, and well-shaped eyebrows, his face framed his eyes beautifully. His skin, like all elves, was smooth and soft-looking.

In whole, the contrast between Istyar's dark hair, pale skin and bright green eyes made for a very attractive picture. He looked certainly attractive to Gil-Galad's eyes, who rushed to take on the rest of him before he became too focused. Given Istyar's revelation of his age, Gil-Galad didn't want to stray too far into those kinds of thoughts.

Focusing on his physical form, he noticed that Istyar seemed to be very fit, with a deceitfully slim frame. But Gil-Galad had met many Sylvan warriors and he knew it was the kind of form which could take you down with just the right movements.

Istyar refocused Gil-Galad's wandering thoughts when he exclaimed happily at the window overlooking the back gardens. He then bolted for the stairs without a further word making Gil-Galad rush after him before he could lose sight of his running form.

* * *

Gildor walked around the gardens, apparently trying to clear his head after what had happened in the last hours. In truth, Gildor had been cowardly avoiding the healing halls. Knowing his cousin and his young charge, he had decided to stay well away from that war. Also, he had expected that Gil-Galad's compassionate but firm attitude would help Istyar accept Elrond's check up more than if he had Gildor’s - admittedly weaker to Istyar's pleading green eyes - form to hide behind. But taking himself out of the picture had forced the young Sylvan to stand or fall by himself. Gildor had seen too much of the other’s pain and fear to be able to force him against his will, even knowing it was for his well being.

These past hours had already brought up too many memories for Gildor. To see Istyar arrive with Celebrimbor in tow had been the happiest Gildor had been in weeks, but he hadn't missed the almost haunted gaze his young friend had sported when he arrived. He had done a good job hiding his feelings - probably, if Gildor knew him, even from himself - by keeping a cheerful, even childish attitude. But he hadn't been as unfazed as he appeared to be by his brush with Sauron. Even if he was more than brave enough to confront the Maia without hesitating, Gildor knew Istyar hadn't wanted to come to the attention of any or both of the warring forces fighting for supremacy in Middle Earth.

Gildor knew that Istyar had secrets on top of secrets from the moment he had known him, lost in the forest near the Misty Mountains.

His first impression when his people had brought the young elf to his presence had been that he was one of the reborn. That theory still wasn't discarded, but it hadn't held very well to the passage of time. The fact that Istyar hadn't been able to understand any of the elven languages they had tried with him - and Gildor, better learned than most, had even tried _Vanyarin_ \- didn't seem to fit that he was one of the reborn. Istyar was a strange mixture of ignorant and impossibly knowing. He couldn't cook on a fire, or build a refuge, or even talk to the trees. But he had saved one of their archers when he had been poisoned with an Orc arrow with a combination of herbs and some healing procedures that none of them had ever heard of - here or in Aman.

His manners were also strange, he wasn't impolite in the least but it was clear that he was used to a different life and customs. His manners reminded Gildor of mortals in some ways - who cared about nudity anyway? - but they were very much elven in other ways. He hadn't even blinked when introduced to Ranyare as his second in command and he seemed used to taking orders from bossy females. Gildor knew that mortals, particularly Men, had strange ideas of the females' role in the world.

Istyar’s schooling was also a mixed bag. Where he couldn't write or read any elven language, it was clear he could write in his language - a strange one Gildor had never heard of but looked more like westron than elvish . But once he started to learn Sindarin, he picked it up very quickly and it was clear he was used to learning languages . He also had a good grasp of natural sciences and was more advanced than most Sylvans usually cared for about things such as the rules of movement and artificial constructions. Some of his ideas and theories, Gildor had never heard of and Istyar had quickly stopped asking about things he was familiar with once he realized they weren't as common to them as they were to him.

All in all, his existence was a mystery to Gildor. But he was certain, Istyar didn't seem to be evil or dangerous. Not even Ranyare, who was much more suspicious than Gildor, was able to find any bad thing to tell about Istyar. She had uncharacteristically become almost maternal to him actually, and that was a funny situation given Istyar's aversion to _obey_ any authority. Ranyare had made clear that Istyar seemed to be a genuinely good elf, he didn't raise any alarms to her suspicious mind.

Actually, Gildor was willing to bet his life on Istyar being more of a noble elf than most. His bravery and loyalty had been evident from the start and- once he had gotten proficient in survival and the use of weapons - again a strange gap in his knowledge given his clear proactive attitude - he had been quick to volunteer for the more dangerous scouting missions.

Case in point, this situation about Celebrimbor which Gildor still needed to understand fully. He had noticed the way his cousin had looked to the young Sylvan. He hadn't even realized that Celebrimbor, last scion of the Feanor's house, was attracted to males. And wouldn't that have been a fun discussion to have with Curufin. Elves, in general, weren't as constricted by gender as other races in their personal relationship. But, as the current King's personal story attested to, royalty had its own set of rules.

Given the current situation of the House of Feanor, Gildor didn't expect for anyone to raise any trouble if its last member wished to bond with another male. Many would actually probably feel relieved at the idea that Celebrimbor's choice would formally end Feanor's line in Middle Earth.

Gildor, for his part, hadn't decided yet how to feel about it. On the one hand, he had known Celebrimbor for most of his life and known him to be a kind and wise elf who had bravely stood against his family's doom by renouncing his father and his decisions. He deserved, more than many, to find love and healing and Istyar was a kinder soul than most and could be a good fit for the smith. On the other hand, something about the situation seemed wrong. From what Gildor knew about Istyar, he seemed to be attracted towards the other elf, but something about the way he looked at him hinted to a hidden pain. Celebrimbor's hidden looks were similarly pained. Whatever had happened between those two, it hadn't ended well. And it was still unresolved. Gildor was very protective of the young Sylvan, and he didn't know how to help him, which made him nervous.

He was looking towards the tree line, wondering if he could get away with escaping into the treetops for the evening when he heard approaching steps behind him .

* * *

Harry looked around the study, curious. He had never been in a King's study - or a Queen’s either for that matter - and he wondered if there was something special about it that marked the mess of papers he saw around the main table as Royal - a capital letter intended - instead of... well, messy.

Gildor, who had entered behind him and knew him well by now, gave him a warning look before he went to one of the chairs before the desk and sat down. Harry ignored him, the blonde had been grumpy since they had intercepted his escape and dragged him back to the Palace. Harry wouldn't feel guilty about it, it had been his babbling to the King which had brought Harry the unwanted attention he was suffering now. He was pretty certain he could have dropped Celebrimbor with Cirdan at the harbour and left if not for Gildor.

Harry didn't know if he, as a lowly Sylvan, was allowed to take a seat before the King - Gildor, whatever he admitted the relationship or not, was some kind of cousin and was obviously considered family by everyone concerned - so he decided to bypass the situation by standing at attention behind Gildor - and conveniently placed near one of the balcony doors.

Gil-Galad, who had been detained by one of his attendants and entered the last, gave him his own knowing gaze.

Harry was starting to feel harassed, he had just escaped _once_ through a window.

"Cousin, Istyar, do you want something to drink? It has been a long day and I promised you some of the kitchen delicatessens" - Gil-Galad offered still next to the study door. Harry brightened at the offer, if he had to suffer through this meeting he could at least try to enjoy some food. Stolen food wasn't Harry's favourite fare.

"You _did_ promise" - he said, pretending nonchalance, and at Gildor's pointed look, he added - "Your Majesty" - he ignored Gildor's antics and looked back to the King in earnest. Gil-Galad smiled kindly and turned back to someone in the hallway to give some hushed instructions before he entered the study, closing the door behind him to sit at the chair behind the desktop. He waved Harry towards one of the chairs - "Please, Istyar, take a seat. We are among family here, young one. Gildor seems to be very fond of you" - the King said, looking curiously between the two of them.

Gildor raised his eyebrows in question to his royal cousin’s expectant gaze.

"You still haven't told me why you wanted to talk to us, Gil. I haven't hidden that I am fond of Istyar or that he is associated with my people" - Gildor said carefully.

Harry looked between the two cousins warily. While he was wary of letting too many people know about him, he didn't want to put Gildor in the position of having to lie - or even denying to answer - his King and his cousin. He appreciated that Gil-Galad had decided to confront them together instead of trying to play them against each other. That kind of forwardness was extremely rare in authority figures in Harry's experience.

He chose the chair opposite to Gildor and sat. Looking to the King then, he decided to grant him the benefit of the doubt.

"You have questions about me" - he stated bluntly.

Gil-Galad raised an eyebrow in response, but his eyes lightened in interest at his candour.

"You are a bit of a mystery. My dear cousin here doesn't actually explain himself too much in general - and he has been truly mysterious about you - and the people he shelters among his company usually come from any and all backgrounds. But you seem to be a special case, I can't remember him being this protective about anyone else. Not without them being family. Or a romantic interest" - the King amended - "Not that I expect that is the case given... the circumstances" - he rushed to say like he felt the need to explain himself.

Harry looked at him warily, wondering what circumstances he was alluding. Was he talking about Celebrimbor? He had hoped to have a clean break of that with things as they were. No one from Ost-in-Edhil seemed to have reached Lindon, not yet at least, and Harry had hoped to leave the city before anyone did.

"Circumstances?" - he asked cautiously.

Gil-Galad seemed surprised but traded a look with Gildor who was also looking disconcerted.

"As young as you are I mean. I am actually surprised that Gildor let you out of his sight as it is. I take that your family is... not around?" - Gil-Galad finally explained, his voice soft and kind like he was talking to a child. Harry looked back to him uncomprehending. He looked back to Gildor in question.

"Young? I have been of age for a long time now. And my family has been dead for even longer" - he dismissed firmly. He felt all his hackles raising. He had lived too long with uncaring relatives when he was younger and fought too hard to be taken seriously as a young adult to accept anyone calling him 'too young' now.

"I am sorry for your family" - Gil-Galad apologised, clearly thinking that his defensiveness had to do with that - "I understand that sometimes circumstances made us grow too fast. But 38 is too young to be on your own. You don't need to..." - Gil-Galad started when a knock interrupted him. The promised sweets and afternoon tea were delivered by a pair of efficient elves and Harry took the time to regroup.

He cursed internally at his carelessness. He didn't know at what age the elves were considered adults and he hadn't thought to research it before. Gildor and the rest had treated him as an adult because he had behaved as one when he first arrived. But in the last few years, he had become much more relaxed and adopted the elven way of life, particularly the Sylvan which were far less serious than their Noldor cousins. He had been indiscreet when he had been talking in the library and now he understood why the King had acted as he had.

Gildor was also surprised at the number. Once the King's staff had left again, he talked.

"38? You didn't tell me you were that young Istyar. Although I suppose that your circumstances being as they are, it's not really an accurate one regardless" - Gildor commented pensively. Gil-Galad turned his focus on him now.

"And now it is I who asks about circumstances. You have alluded to Istyar's being special but you haven't been forthcoming about that " - the King complained, looking between the two of them. Gildor made Harry a gesture, indicating it was his decision to talk.

Harry nodded in response and started carefully to talk. He related the circumstances of his first meeting with Gildor, admitting his disorientation but implying he didn't know how he had arrived there. He supposed that Gil-Galad made Gildor's assumption that he had been reborn but he made certain of not saying it himself. Over the course of his tale, he managed to skirt the truth without actually saying any major lies. Except for the fact he remembered belonging on a whole different world.

But he had a few truths he could tell. He didn't know how he had arrived at the forest or who, if anyone, he belonged to - clearly it wasn't with the humans as he was an elf now. His knowledge was a bit patchy , but he had learned from Gildor's people all he could to fill those gaps. He also had knowledge in things that Gildor hadn't known and he was a skilled healer of his own. He was certain that he had no family left behind and that they had died when he was very young. The people he had been left with didn't want him and most definitely wouldn't miss him.

Gil-Galad's face had turned progressively darker while Harry told his tale. Even if he didn't interrupt Harry, it was clear that some of what he was hearing didn't sit well with him. Harry was quite fascinated by his reaction. During all his childhood he had hoped for just one adult to take notice of his situation and try to help him. After he left the Dursleys, and enough years had gone by that he could look back with some objectivity, he had realised how terribly the adults around him had failed him. He wasn't going to play the game of 'what if' or judge if Dumbledore's decision had been right or wrong, given the circumstances. It was irrelevant now, he had grown up as he had and Dumbledore was long dead. But what surprised Harry as an adult was that none of the rest of the adults around him had even _tried_ to find out how his home life was. Maybe with all the facts exposed, the Dursleys would have still been the only choice, but no one had even given a second thought to it. He had been 'rescued' by the twins and Ron at twelve from a barred room! And no one had even asked why he had been at that situation in the first place. Or why the twins claimed he was being starved.

In contrast, to see Gil-Galad - who didn't even know him or had any obligation towards him - inquiring in this way, just because of a passing comment where he had admitted at being too young... It was interesting, to say the least. He had already noticed that the Noldor King had much to recommend him and this was only one more thing to like. Harry had never liked authority figures and he was aware that most of his distrust of them came from his childhood experiences. But he wondered how his life would have been with someone like Gil-Galad calling the shots.

He had expended all his early years veering between two situations: adults who wanted him dead and those who should have taken care of him but failed him resoundingly.

To find himself, almost forty years old, being questioned about his maturity... about what he could tell about his childhood and the family which had never wanted him.

Gildor, who had been listening to Harry's tale without interrupting - and some of the things Harry had admitted, he hadn't been aware of - spoke again.

"Your tale is a grim one, my friend. It's difficult to understand that any of our people would reject a child in the way your family did. Our children are precious to our race and any of us would have been happy to foster you if they weren't able to" - Gildor said seriously, the look on his face a complicated one.

Harry smiled at his friend fondly, aware of the older elf’s frustrated yearning for children. Harry suspected that he fed that need by adopting every elf in need that crossed his path.

"You are still too young to be on your own. Your family didn't have the right to throw you into the wild to fend by yourself" - Gil-Galad said.

Harry blinked in surprise, wondering if he was to become a ward at 38.

"Your Majesty. As much as I appreciate your... concern, I have been on my own for a long time. I am not actually sure how old I am right now, the dates I gave before were estimations. There is some... loss time in between that I can't account for" - he said, thinking of his crossing of the Veil. He couldn't explain what had happened then, or how much time had passed. What he knew was that he hadn't been the same once he had arrived on the other side.

"I understand that and I can imagine that you wouldn't take kindly to being under someone’s authority after being so long on your own. I have already seen what you are capable of when you don't want to do something" - Gil-Galad said pointedly. Harry gave a sheepish smile in response.

"Maybe, we could find some middle ground here" - Gildor interceded. Both Harry and Gil-Galad turned towards him in question. Gildor explained - "I've known Istyar for a few years, and I know him to be mature, clever, courageous and kind. I don't doubt that you can take care of yourself as you have so far" - Gildor started while Istyar nodded in earnest, seeing his freedom within reach. Gildor's next words, however, wasn't so encouraging - "However, I do agree with Gil-Galad that knowing your age, it's criminal for us not to do anything. I believe that you could benefit from some guidance from someone, even if you are old enough that such a person should be closer to a teacher than a parent" - Gildor concluded.

Istyar and Gil-Galad looked to each other, neither of them opposed to the idea. Istyar wasn't certain of how such a mentorship could work, but he had enjoyed learning smithing from Artano. Gil-Galad seemed to find the compromise acceptable too, his next words went along that line.

"I believe my cousin, that it is a good idea. And I have the perfect person for this task" - Gil-Galad seemed to have recovered his good humour and Harry figured that the person he had just volunteered would have some words to say about it. As funny as it was to think under different circumstances, one thing Harry had promised himself was to never become a forced duty for anyone else. He decided to nip that thought in the bud.

"If I am going to do this, I want to make certain that the person who is... teaching me will be willing to do it, and will get something from it. I don't want to be a burden to anyone" - he said firmly, his voice even.

Gil-Galad must have sensed something in his voice or his words, because his whole demeanour softened and he rose from his seat to crouch before Harry, taking his hand while his eyes conveyed his seriousness.

"I won't 'foist' you in someone unwilling, _gwinig_ I will find you someone willing and capable or I will foster you myself. The only reason I am not doing it to start with is that the elf I am thinking of really does need some help and I think the two of you will be a perfect match" - Gil-Galad said seriously. Harry felt a shot of warmth at his words and gentle handling. He wasn't surprised anymore of Gil-Galad's good standing among his people.

Gildor cleared his throat, making the two of them separate and look at him. Harry felt a small flush he didn't wish to look too much into while Gil-Galad returned to his seat behind the desk.

"Well, if that is decided Gil, I would like to have some time with my young friend here before he becomes too busy to indulge an old elf like me with a conversation" - Gildor said, rising from his seat and gesturing for Harry to follow. Harry nodded to the King in respect before following his friend to the door at the King's nod.

"I will talk to you later about my decision Istyar. Take care of my cousin in the meantime and don't let him get into too much trouble, will you?" - Gil-Galad said while they reached the door. Gildor's muttered imprecations were too low to hear but the King clearly didn't need to, as his laughter followed them to the hall outside.

Once they were alone for the first time since Harry's arrival, Gildor's face turned serious again and he led him to the main staircase.

"Let's take another walk in the gardens so we can talk in private" - Gildor said. Harry nodded in response to his words, his mood turning serious due to Gildor's attitude. Once they reached the front gardens, Gildor didn't hesitate in going up into the trees, the two green elves walking through the treetops like it was a path instead of branches.

Finally, away from the castle and prying ears, Gildor turned again towards Harry and sitting in a branch asked him.

"What happened, Istyar? Last news I had from you, you sounded... strange, it seemed to me like you were terribly depressed for some reason. I had to restrain Ranyare from leaving immediately after you, she was convinced that you were heartbroken" - Gildor said looking so intently at him that it was impossible for him to miss Harry's reaction - "By the Valar! She was right! What happened? Did you lose your lover? I know you were taking some scouting missions at the end, and that they were very dangerous. I was surprised that you would take such a role, was your lover in those missions? did you lose them?" - Gildor asked so worriedly and gently that Harry didn't have the heart to lie to him. He didn't feel he had to lie to anyone, he had nothing to be ashamed of.

"He didn't die, Gildor. You don't have to worry about that. But you are right that I lost him, it wasn't to death, however, but to someone else" - Harry said, trying to keep his voice firm and unconcerned.

Gildor's incredulous gaze was amusing - and quite comforting - Harry smiled wryly to his friend wondering what he would say about the identity of his lover.

However, Gildor surprised him.

"Celebrimbor" - he said darkly, his voice more an affirmation than a question. Harry bit his lip in hesitation before he nodded without words. Gildor swore darkly looking poised to track down the Feanorian, but he still had questions.

"Forgive me Istyar, to ask you this, but with the age difference..." - he started to say. Harry rushed to reassure him of that, at least.

"It was consensual Gildor, I know you now feel guilty for not having asked my age when we first met, but I am an adult in every way that it matters. Celebrimbor has enough to answer for, but not that. Not towards me at least" - he said firmly.

Harry wasn't happy with his former lover, and forgiveness was a long way off if he ever did. He had thought, naively, that his trust had already been abused every way it could be, from his relatives to his teachers to Ginny's suspiciously quick recovery from their break-up - where she had started to publicly snog Dean less than two weeks after their final separation when the divorce papers hadn't even been drawn yet. But apparently, he should have been more thankful to his former wife, to have _real, visible_ proof of cheating hurt _even_ more.

And he had that. His mind shied away from remembering that moment, but he could still remember Annatar's - Sauron's - smug face the first time he saw him and Celebrimbor again. It had been after he returned from one of his scouting missions and had to report to the City Council. He had been trying to stay away from anywhere that reminded him of Celebrimbor and he didn't care about the danger.

But he could have done without having to see his former lover with his _current_ lover and had to hear their bullshit leadership.

* * *

Harry almost turned around there and then when he first saw Celebrimbor and Annatar at the Council's table. He had been avoiding the palace, _and Celebrimbor_ , for weeks since he had caught Celebrimbor in bed with Annatar, but he hadn't been able to avoid this meeting. As part of the party which had been visiting the dwarves, he had been recruited to pass along his impressions and messages to the City's leaders. He would have liked to give this report to the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn alone, but as it was usually his luck, this was one of the few times where Celebrimbor had decided to attend a meeting, probably because of his special connection with the dwarves.

He walked up to the dais where the Council was seated, following the other elves in the company, two other Sylvan and three Noldor, and keeping his eyes fixed on the white Lady, ignoring everyone around her like they were unimportant. He would give his report and leave as soon as possible.

The Sylvan party had been included to inform about the damage made in the path between Tharbad and Khazad-dûm. Reports of missing people and towns destroyed had reached the city. The Sylvans had a special bond with nature and they had been asked to try and discover what had been happening in the region.

As it was to be expected, many species had fled from the path and the vicinity of the Door to Khazad-dûm with the dwarves incessant building and travelling, and that would make it harder for the nearby settlements to hunt for food. But, that wasn't the only thing troubling the animals and trees around the area. Something darker was closing into this Region, and the wild beasts were the first to notice.

He caught Galadriel's eye when they reached the table and the white Lady bestowed upon him a kind and calming look. Harry had always liked her. Despite their very different origins and experiences, he felt in her a kindred spirit: someone who would never, ever, give up no matter how difficult the path or how hard the choices to make. Galadriel looked around the rest of the party and seeing everyone gathered and ready, started to address them.

"Welcome back to Ost-in-Edhil. My heart is glad to see you safe and back in our city. I would like to know everything about your travels and we will ask for your opinions later when you are all rested. But I would like the first report of your impressions as some concerning news have been reaching this Council in the last few weeks." - Galadriel said.

Harry wondered what reports she was talking about and if they had anything to do with the signs of violence and people fleeing they had seen in the road. Arodwin, the Noldor representative, took a step forward after checking with the rest of them and started their report.

"My Lady, even without knowing the rest of the reports you have received, I can tell you that ours is not better." - he started seriously. Galadriel didn't look surprised and signalled him to continue with her hand.

"The path between here and Khazad-dûm is growing darker by the day. Troops of orcs and other dark creatures have been seen close to this location. Most of those not living in the cities are flying in terror of being killed if they stay. I don't think we have the strength to defend Ost-in-Edhil if they attack us my lady" - Arodwin concluded grimly.

Galadriel and the rest of the Council looked to each other in alarm, some of them starting to whisper among themselves. However, in Harry no-so-unbiased opinion, Annatar didn't look truly surprised or alarmed at the news. Harry got the impression he was only feigning alarm when one of the others looked in his direction. Of course, Harry wasn't exactly an impartial view here. When Annatar rose from his seat to talk, he had to fight to keep externally impassible:

"I understand you are worried about this news we have been receiving. And I'm not trying to doubt the veracity of the stories that have reached us, but I don't know if you are in the position of judging the level of defences this city has. I think you are insulting Lord Celebrimbor and his people, who had been labouring all these months tirelessly, to make this city inexpugnable. It would take more than a group of orcs to breach the city walls" - he said in that reasonable tone of his. Harry couldn't help to remember some of the politicians back home, like Fudge, when they were denying Voldemort's return. He caught Galadriel's eye again and she nodded in his direction.

"What about our Sylvan cousins? You got the same impression as Arodwin?" - she asked. Harry took pains to only look in Galadriel's direction, ignoring Annatar and Celebrimbor at her far left.

"We did, my lady. I don't think those who are safely inside these walls can understand the number of troops that are moving outside of them" - he allowed himself the dig, without looking in anyone's direction but Galadriel, and continued -"Furthermore, I don't believe any city is secure. Just a small break in the walls, a weak spot in our attention, and we will be overrun by all of them. If they manage to breach the walls if only for a moment, it will be all over." - he said.

Seeing a small movement at the corner of his sight, he continued, overriding Annatar's next words.

"It is not really about my opinion or anyone else. We have been sent for information and we have given it, at great risk to ourselves if I may add. But that is our duty, and we accept the risks" - his companions nodded along with him at these words.

"Now the duty of this Council is to guarantee the safety and prosperity of this city and those who live in it, and I would ask of you: are you able to grant it? With all the forces amassing behind us, will you be able to keep the people of Ost-in-Edhil safe? This is not about egos or pride, this about the people who are trusting you to make the best decision for us all. I don't think I can add more than that to this" - he concluded, giving a brief vow and turning back on his heels to leave the room. He couldn't stomach more of this nonsense today. 

Before he fully turned away from the table, his eye finally caught Celebrimbor's. He was, however, unable to interpret the desolated look the older elf was giving him.

Honestly, Harry was too busy trying to mend his own heart.

* * *

Gildor's gentle hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present and Harry tried to shook himself off from the painful memories. Gildor stayed silent while he recovered. Finally, Harry focused his gaze in the Palace's walls, like he could see through stone and wood into the rooms inside.

Gildor and he stayed in amicably silence until the sun started to set. Harry knew that his friend had many questions, but he appreciated his empathy and kindness to let him be. Maybe Gildor would turn his curiosity in Celebrimbor's direction and Harry wished him luck. For once, Harry preferred the path of ignorance, the hows and whys, he would let them for someone else to ask.


	10. A destroyer who would devour all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War is close. Sauron has shown his hand and now the free people need to respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.” - The two Towers.   
> So, a quote on war for this chapter. Things are starting to pick up and Istyar will need to make a choice soon. I wanted to have Gil's choice for his mentor in this chapter, but the meeting in Gil's study took a lot longer than I expected so, next chapter!
> 
> I want to explain that the theory of Galadriel resenting Gil-Galad for being the King instead of her is something I read on "Even Quicker Than Doubt by Keiliss". I don't know if anyone else has used this argument but I think it's perfect because it fits perfectly with Galadriel's well-documented ambitions and character. That said, this is not meant to make her the bad guy or anything like that. Also, important to note that the perspective in her character and intentions came from Gil's side. So, not unbiased I mean.

Gil-Galad looked grimly to the letter in his hands, his heart grieving for what he knew was coming but his mind already planning ahead. The confirmation of Sauron's return and his plans to subdue all free people in Middle Earth were lying on his hand right now, via some of his spies. Sauron had openly claimed the mountains in the South as his own, calling the territory Mordor and starting to call Morgoth's creatures to him as their new Master.

Gil didn't need an official declaration of war to know what was coming and he wasn't waiting for one to start amassing his response for this new threat. From the moment Gildor had arrived with the news of Sauron's return and his attack on Ost-in-Edhil, Gil had been preparing his own reaction to the matter, sending a discrete word to their allies and starting to prepare for the provisioning of people and material.

This wasn't his first war, unfortunately. He had been a child when his father sent him to Cirdan before he started what would become the Union of Maedhros. Too young to understand that he wouldn't see his father again or know the consequences of that war. Or the logistics of it for what it mattered. When his father died, he had been too young to take the crown so it had gone to Turgon and Gil had continued his sheltered life in the Havens of the Fallas. With Turgon's death , the crown had returned to him despite his still young age, and he had become King with the final War against Morgoth already in the works. He had been young when the Valar and their army had arrived at their shores to fight the Vala Morgoth, but he had already been a King and he had joined his forces to the golden army of Aman.

So yes, Gil knew war and how to wage it. He wouldn't be caught unaware by what was coming for them.

Placing the message back on the top of his desk he signalled one of his attendants to his side. If they were going to War, they would need to start to recruit. He knew just the people for this work.

* * *

Gildor entered the Healing Halls, his step firm and his face as grave as anyone had ever seen him. He didn't waste any time speaking to anyone around him and his purposed walking made clear to anyone watching that he knew where he was going and what he wanted, and wanted no interruption. No one dared to obstruct him or derail him from his objective.

The focus of his attention, on the other hand, seemed to sense his approach because he looked up from the book he had been reading - resting back against the headrest of the bed - and locked gazes with the other elf, first showing his surprise at Gildor's expression and then dawning realisation.

Celebrimbor looked torn between the wish to fly and resignation for what was coming for him.

Good. Gildor wasn't in the mood to pursue the other elf through the palace's corridors. Gil wouldn't forgive him if he gave his staff more work by destroying some 'special' sculpture or something similarly ridiculous while running after the other elf.

Arriving at Celebrimbor's bedside, he looked around making eye contact with one of the healers before asking.

"I don't suppose I could take my cousin for a walk to the balcony. The weather is quite good and he must be feeling tired of being in bed all the time" - he asked, turning his more charming smile to the young Sinda. The ellon blushed hotly before he nodded in response.

"Of course, my lord. Lord Celebrimbor can take small walks around the palace as long as he doesn't force it and he is accompanied by someone" - he explained with a bow, before leaving them alone. Gildor nodded satisfied and turned back to the dark-haired elf, lifting an eyebrow in question.

"I think it would be good for us to have a bit of time alone together, wouldn't it cousin? It has been a long time since we talked last and I am just _dying_ to hear from your mouth the truth of some tales which have reached me" - he said cheerfully, although no one who knew him would miss the barely hidden anger in his voice.

Celebrimbor did notice certainly, but he looked resigned to having this conversation. He moved to the side of the bed and hoisted himself up and into the floor, slipping his feet in the soft slippers which were next to his bed.

The two of them walked silently out of the ward and into the sun-filled balcony where they could talk in some privacy. Once they were at one of the ends, Celebrimbor leaned over the handrail watching over the garden Gildor had used to talk to Istyar the day before. The memory of the young Sylvan and the pain he hadn't been able to hide from Gildor brought back all the rage that had been growing since he had left Istyar the night before.

"I will be short and to the point _cousin_ " - he started, his voice dark when he mentioned their blood-connection - "I have always counted you as the best that it has come from you family line" - he admitted freely, not bothering to hide his distrust and disgust with most of the Feanorians - "You were brave when you disavowed your father for his deeds, and many of us were in awe that you would do this as openly as you did. I'll give you that" - he conceded grudgingly. Celebrimbor kept silent, his posture tense while he waited for Gildor to continue - "I never thought you could fall lower than your father, and grandfather did. Until now" - he concluded looking up into the grey eyes of the Feanorian.

Celebrimbor wasn't able to hold his gaze for long, his guilty posture screaming pain and regret. Gildor hardened his heart against the other elf, knowing Istyar deserved someone who would defend him as no one had before.

"Istyar is a brave and kind elf. Clever and fair-minded. A great fighter and a loyal friend. He is miles ahead most of my people in strategic thinking and has uncanny luck to find what is hidden. I don't know what happened in his past to make him like this, but I know he is unique among our people. I am sure you noticed this when you met him" - he said more calmly than he felt. Celebrimbor nodded in agreement.

"I did. He has a way of thinking that I haven't seen before, it's like his mind works slightly differently than the rest of us. Sometimes talking or working with him reminded me of working with the dwarves. And although he isn't a smith - not really, although he has a friend who has taught him the basics - his way of thinking makes him stray into unexpected directions. And that is something very valuable for creating new things" - Celebrimbor related, his face turning fond and melancholic.

Gildor shook himself off, while he hadn't expected Celebrimbor's loving reminiscences and remorseful attitude, it didn't change what had happened.

"What I don't understand, Celebrimbor, is how you thought it was a good idea to get involved with him, as young as he is!" - he exploded finally. Celebrimbor seemed taken aback by his reaction.

"Young? I am older than he, of course, having been born before the Years of the Sun. But that is not uncommon among our people..." - Celebrimbor said, his tone surprised. Gildor looked at him unamused and unsurprised. While he had been as ignorant as Celebrimbor of Istyar's true age, he at least had the excuse of never having seen him as a romantic partner.

"He is thirty-eight" - he informed dryly, enjoying the colour draining from Celebrimbor's face.

"Thirty-eight? No... you can't be right. He is of age! I have seen him fight! I have talked to him! He is an adult, not an elfling!" - he argued horrified, taking a step back from Gildor like he could escape from Gildor's words that way. Gildor felt a bit of amusement and righteousness grow at his reaction.

"He has admitted so himself, Celebrimbor. Granted, his situation is such that he has been forced to grow up faster than our kind usually does, and I admit that I wasn't aware of his age until a few days ago. But he is still far too young for what you have done with him and that is not even starting with you cheating on him! You _should have known better!_ \- he finished with a hit of his hand to the bannister. Celebrimbor gave a very satisfying jump at the gesture - "How could you be that irresponsible cousin? And after getting involved with him, how could you betray him like that with that monster?" - he asked, his clear blue eyes fixed on Celebrimbor's guilty ones.

"I have no excuse, Gildor. I can't think of anything to justify myself. What happened with Annatar was a mistake even before I found out he was Sauron. I thought I was above the weakness of my family of succumbing to pride and flattery. But I was clearly wrong and Sauron knew how to take advantage of that" - he confessed.

Gildor was unimpressed.

"What? Did he flatter you into your bed? I didn't know you were that pathetically easy" - he asked disgustedly.

Celebrimbor had started to walk around the balcony visibly upset, his posture uncomfortable and weighted with some invisible burden. Gildor felt a smidgen of empathy for him despite the better part of him was still feeling too furious on Istyar's behalf.

"He knew what to say and when. I realize now that he probably made a study of me and my behaviours to induce the result he was expecting, but at the time it seemed like we just perfectly fit together" - he explained, his gaze lost inside - "Istyar is amazing, from the moment we met he didn't care about my family or my past. He is fascinating, clever, brave and witty and I just knew he would have fit perfectly with my family. I could just imagine him walking up to grandfather and telling him off for being irrational" - he said, his tone fond and amused.

Gildor felt a moment of panic imagining that scenery. It was all too easy picturing Istyar walking up to Fëanor, in the middle of his speech after the theft of the Silmarills and.... yes, that would have been interesting even if terrifying to consider. He focused on Celebrimbor's explanation again.

"...and when we were together I had no doubt that he was the one for me. But, he had to leave for longer and longer spans. Now I realize that was Annatar's fault too, the patrols around the city were finding more and more orc patrols. Istyar volunteered to join them to look for the reason we were getting so much attention and to fight them off" - Celebrimbor's own rage was quickly rising - "We had the reason sitting on our own Council! And he took advantage of Istyar's absence to integrate himself with me and in my home.... and eventually, yes. In my bed. I was an idiot, but at the time, I couldn't see past the flattery of one of the Maiar being that interested in me, and it didn't feel like cheating until he actually ended up in my bed" - he concluded sadly deflating his anger at his confession of his own wrongdoings.

Gildor felt torn between keeping berating his cousin for his actions and trying to get to the bottom of Sauron's actions at Ost-in-Edhil. He couldn't decide because a familiar voice spoke at their backs.

"Pride is a common failing among the Noldor. Using that, Sauron wasn't being very innovative. Of course, no need to change what works" - Galadriel said from the doors to the balcony looking as perfectly composed as usual. Next to her stood her Sinda husband looking as composed as he usually did when among his wife's people. Celebrimbor, however, seemed more interested in the box in Galadriel's hand and he took an unconscious step towards her.

"My Lady! You escaped safely! And you managed to keep them safe!" - he exclaimed gesturing towards the wooden box in her hands which now Gildor were looking more closely had the distinctive Fëanor's star engraved on top.

"So I did, although if I had known you had your own path to escape I would have waited for you. It looks like it was quicker and safer than mine" - Galadriel observed dryly while offering the box to Celebrimbor's eager hands.

"I didn't have any escape path, that was Istyar. And he didn't consult me before coming to my rescue" - Celebrimbor said distractedly opening the box in his hands and checking its content before closing it up again. Galadriel looked as surprised as she could look.

"Istyar? That's interesting" - it was the only thing she said, and Gildor had no doubt she was _very_ interested despite her mild reaction. Celeborn, however, had his own opinion to share.

"Istyar? After all you put him through he went and rescued you?" - he asked incredulously. Celebrimbor didn't bother to give an answer, not that Celeborn seemed to expect one, and turned back towards the doors starting for them.

"I need to talk to Gil. It's important that he receives this" - he said as a manner of explanation. Gildor followed after him, although he couldn't help the last warning.

"I am not finished with this and you cousin" - he said. Celebrimbor's tense shoulders showed he had heard the threat in the warning but he showed no other reaction before entering the palace again.

* * *

Gil looked down to the box in his hands mutely. It was an attractive wooden box nicely carved with the star of Fëanor prominently displayed in the centre. It looked polished and sturdy, built to last and made to protect what was inside.

Honestly, it didn't look like much and Gil looked up to his cousin's terse expression to try and figure out why he had just handed it to him after summoning all of them to Gil's study this morning.

The looks of everyone around him reflected the same questions. Glorfindel and Elrond were standing next to each other at the chairs behind Gil but he could feel their confused curiosity at the situation and the box in Gil's hands. Except for Galadriel and Celeborn, who looked as all-knowing as usual sitting before Gil's desk, their faces calm but focused. His dear cousin had arrived a few hours ago and the tale of her - and her young daughter’s - escape turned Gil's blood to ice. It was just as well they hadn't known about it until she had finally arrived.

Finally, at the back of the room near the windows, stood Gildor, Cirdan and Istyar and the three of them looked confused and a bit uncomfortable, clearly wondering if they were meant to be present or not. Well... except for one of them.

Istyar's demeanour attracted Gil's attention. The young sylvan was looking at Gil's - Celebrimbor's really - box riveted, his head cocked to the side like he was listening to something almost beyond his hearing. His green eyes, now Gil was looking at them closely, looked unfocused, hazy, like he wasn't really looking through them but using them as some kind of conduct to something else. After a few moments of focusing on _something_ , Istyar seemed to return to himself, his face taking a surprised expression, turning wonderingly in Celebrimbor's direction.

Gil was intrigued by Celebrimbor's returning look of pride and guilt at the same time. He wouldn't have expected to find _that_ expression on a Fëanorian. Again, the King couldn't but question what the history between those two was and who he needed to get drunk to discover it. Seeing his other cousin sending daggers with his eyes in Celebrimbor's direction he suspected he may be able to get Gildor's version before he left.

Cirdan cleared his throat from his position next to the window, ignoring the antics of the elves surrounding him - Cirdan had a lot of experience with that - and tried to bring their meeting to focus.

"I take, Celebrimbor, that box is the reason we have been asked to come here today" - the Shipwright stated nodding towards the artefact in Gil's hands.

Celebrimbor seemed to return to himself at Cirdan's words, breaking eye-contact with Istyar and returning his attention to the box in Gil's hands.

"That is my latest and greatest creation. It would have been my last one too..." - he trailed off before he signalled for Gil - "Open it" - he ordered. Gil cocked up his eyebrow at the order by obeyed it, his curiosity winning against any misgivings he still had.

Inside the box, three beautiful rings were innocently resting above a blue cloth. Strange energy seemed to emanate from them. The others in the room moved closer to Gil's position to better look inside. Surprisingly, it was Istyar who first talked.

"These rings feel..." - the Sylvan trailed off at a loss of words.

"Yes, exactly" - Gildor affirmed like Istyar had said something very deep, before he turned in Celebrimbor's direction questionably - "What have you done now, Celebrimbor? That rings there look and feel like something your grandfather would have done, and forgive me because I am not sure that I mean this as a compliment" - Gildor said seriously, his face showing how much this situation had unsettled him.

Gil returned his attention to the innocent-looking rings in his hands ignoring the other's reactions and antics in the meantime. He wasn't as old as Gildor or Cirdan - or had Istyar's apparent sensibility - but even he could feel the 'strangeness' of those rings his cousin had just handled him. Coupled with the Fëanorian's history of making dangerous artefacts that Gildor had already reminded to all of them, Gil was understandingly feeling a bit nervous to even have them in his hands.

Appearance-wise, the rings were an artwork, worthy of the craftsman they belonged to. Delicate looking in gold and silver, with exquisitely cut and placed precious stones, Gil could spend a year looking at them and finding new details in their making.

But it was the... energy stored inside them which was raising the alarms among the more sensitive between them. It was difficult to explain, but they felt... more than they looked. Gil was again reminded of Gildor's comment and he turned his attention back to Celembrimbor who seemed to be justifying his choice to his cousin.

"...losing so much already. I just wanted to protect what we are and what we were against the threats outside, against the passage of time. And maybe to help our people to rally against the growing darkness" - Celebrimbor was saying.

"You can't change the passage of time Cel!" - Istyar interceded, his tone calm and soothing like this was a familiar discussion. Gildor looked incensed.

"I thought we had learnt from the past that some things shouldn't be controlled! That it's madness to try!" - Gildor said walking around the room in his agitation.

"It was just an intellectual exercise at the beginning. We just wanted to see what each one of the free people's strengths and weaknesses were, and try to use the rings to help in their defence" - Celebrimbor said defensively. Gil narrowed his eyes at the words, something in the phrasing giving him a pause.

"How many rings are we talking about here? And who do you mean by us?" - Gil asked, seeing Istyar start at the question and looking at Celebrimbor in growing alarm, clearly having reached the same conclusion as Gil.

"Not Annatar! Tell me you haven't given Sauron the way to destroy us all" - Istyar asked darkly walking to Celebrimbor's side, his whole body tense like he was restraining himself from physically shaking the older elf.

Celebrimbor averted his gaze to the ground, his grey eyes going dark and ashamed.

"It's even worse than you are thinking although I didn't know this until almost the end" - Celebrimbor explained slowly, raising his eyes to Istyar's again - "I give you my word that I didn't know, and when I started to suspect... When I started to suspect I made certain that he didn't notice. I tried my best to best him in his own game" - he explained.

"That's why I found you hanging from chains in your own tower?" - Istyar asked dryly before he gave the finishing touch - "Good job!" - Gil heard Glorfindel's aborted snort from behind him and he had to repress his own smile. He was starting to like the little Sylvan, and not only for his stunning looks either.

"He was trying to get me to give up those rings, yes" - he admitted grudgingly before he turned to Gil - "But he has made many other rings Ereinion, he was obsessed with making them. I didn't think much of them, because they seemed benign enough. Until I realised he was creating a master ring" - he finalised grimly.

"A master ring?" - Gil asked, looking down again to the apparently innocuous rings in his hands. Celebrimbor shook his head.

"Those were made by me, and touched only by me. They are safe, they are not under the control of the Ring. But the others are, Ereinion. You need to contact our allies, to warn them. They can't take those rings, the One Ring rules them all and they - and their people - will fall under _his_ control if they take them. They will use their weakness against them and turn them into something no one will be able to recognise" - Celebrimbor explained tersely, urgently.

Gil nodded in response, turning to the two elves at his back. Elrond rose immediately from his seat and said.

"I will warn the Men. There are quite a few ships in the harbour. The word will spread quickly" - Elrond said calmly, already walking towards the door.

Gil nodded in thanks.

"Thank you Elrond, make sure that not only the Númenóreans get word of this. Anyone we can reach and warn with this news is an ally Sauron loses" - Gil ordered, and gestured Istyar and Gildor - "Can you spread the word between our people? I think the Companies will be a good way to reach as many of us as possible. Although I will send official word too, I am certain you have faster ways to do it" - he admitted with a wry smile. 

The two elves shared a smile between them and bowed to the King in response - "I would like to think that none of us would accept strange gifts, but it cost us nothing to make certain that everyone is ready and wary" - Gil asked. The two elves nodded again and left without another word, following Elrond.

Gil returned his focus to the elves still remaining at the room.

"I was going to call for you even before this last news. We need to get ready for War, now Sauron has shown his true face it's only a matter of time before he comes after us" - Gil said gravelly looking down to the beautiful rings still in his hands - "How did you manage to rescue this?" - he asked.

Celebrimbor smiled wryly in response.

"I didn't" - he admitted.

"I did" - Galadriel said, talking for the first time.

Gil turned towards her without surprise. Galadriel and he weren't as close as he was to his other cousins. He had always gotten the impression that the youngest daughter of Finarfin believed that the High King crown should have gone to her instead of Gil, on the account of her age. No matter the fact that Finarfin's line never had the right to the crown. Still, it made their interactions a bit more distant than his other family.

He turned to the blonde, dressed as usual in a spotless white. Gil wondered vaguely if she used some magic to make certain that dirt didn't touch her clothes. He also wondered if she could read his mind when her cool blue eyes fixed on him. He tried to turn his mind back to business turning back to Celebrimbor.

"You gave the rings to Galadriel before she left the city" - Gil observed calmly - "You said you started to suspect him. So you gave Galadriel the rings and while she escaped the city you turned Sauron's attention to you. You allow him to realise you were starting to become suspicious of him so he would concentrate on you" - Gil realised while he reasoned out loud. He looked to his cousin in wonder and horror. Celebrimbor made a face in response.

"Don't look at me like that. It was my foolish actions which allowed him to have as much power as he had in the first place. And it was my lack of sense which let my people helpless before his troops. By the time I realised what he was, I had only power to give Galadriel a small window of opportunity to escape. As it is, she and young Celebrian almost didn't make it" - Celebrimbor admitted, his voice heavy with guilt - "I was only trying to make up a bit for my mistakes" - he concluded.

"It's not me you wronged the most cousin" - Galadriel warned, her voice as cool as usual but Gil noticed a strange echo he had never heard in her voice before. He looked between the two of them in curiosity, sensing he was missing something. Galadriel’s next words helped a bit - "And I am surprised that Istyar even bothered to try and rescue you, never mind the risk he took in doing this" - she observed.

A nagging suspicion was starting to grow in Gil's mind at Galadriel's words while he continued looking between the two of them, wondering if he had the right to ask what was starting to suspect. He then saw Cirdan's expression from the corner of his eye and focused on his foster father who looked grave but not at all as confused as Gil felt. Cirdan noticed Gil's attention and when he turned on his direction, Gil lifted an inquiring eyebrow. The older elf nodded in response and Gil turned back to his cousins more satisfied now he knew that he would, at some point, get the whole story.

Galadriel and Celebrimbor had kept bickering in the meantime and Gil decided he needed to take control back of the situation. He cleared his throat and placed the box he had been playing with on top of his desk, taking one of the rings from it to study it closely.

As he had hoped, the rest of the room fell into silence while they watched him. He raised the ring to the light and studied the blue stone.

"That is Vilya, the strongest of the three" - Celebrimbor explained - "The Ring of Air, I think you should take it Gil" - he then signalled the others - "Those are Narya, the Ring of Fire and Nenya the Ring of Water" - he said, pointing out the rings with the red and white stones respectively.

Gil hesitated with the blue ring in his hand before he put it on. He saw Glorfindel's aborted movement at his back before the blonde warrior restrained himself. He understood his doubts - and he shared them, the possession of powerful artefacts hadn't always gone well for the Noldor - but he hadn't become a King and ruled as High King in Middle Earth by playing safe.

With the ring on his finger, he felt... different. For a brief moment, he wondered if he hadn't, after all, made a mistake trusting his cousin's craft because the sense of vertigo and dizziness was as bad as anything he had ever felt. But after a few moments of disorientation, he started to return back to his own senses.

Glorfindel's urgent voice brought him back to the present.

"For the Valar Gil, answer me this minute! I can't believe you just put that thing on your finger just like that" - the blonde exasperated words didn't hide the panic behind. Gil lifted his _other_ hand towards him to shut him up.

"I am fine, Glorfindel. Stand down. It's just difficult to orientate myself, that's all" - he explained. His friend was kneeling before him, his hands around Gil's right one where he had put the ring.

Celebrimbor, who had also arisen from his seat and stood at Glorfindel's back, nodded in response to Gil's words.

"It makes sense, the Rings are made to enhance your senses. You would need a moment to re-calibrate your sense of reality. Which I would have explained if you had given me a minute to do it" - he complained before returning to his seat - "Take a few moments to return to yourself. In time, you will get used to your new... awareness and will be able to use it"

Glorfindel rose too from his kneeling position but he didn't re-take his seat, staying beside Gil's chair and turning to the other elf to ask.

"Use it how? What is the exact use for these Rings, Celebrimbor? You said you wanted to help to preserve our people, and that you studied the strengths and weaknesses of each race. But none of that tells us what to expect from those rings" - Glorfindel asked.

Gil was only half-focused on the conversation around him, his mind still trying to adapt to the Ring - _Vilya?_ \- power. The sensation wasn't like anything he had felt before. He wasn't able to understand all he was feeling. the closest he could describe it was like his awareness of the world around him had magnified a thousand times. And spread to the lands around them. He wondered if this was something like what Melian must have felt when inside her Girdle.

As Celebrimbor had said, he would need time and a lot of it to make sense of all he was feeling. In the meantime, his two cousins were arguing _again_ although this time it seemed that it was Celeborn who was more disturbed by Celebrimbor's work.

"... it's against nature to try and stop it, Celebrimbor! I can't see any good coming from the use of those things. We should destroy them as quickly as possible and you shouldn't make anything like that ever again!" - the Sinda said, his voice altered.

While Gil understood his concerns - and even shared them in some ways - he hadn't forgotten the second part of Celebrimbor's tale.

"You said Sauron has the other rings, doesn't he? The ones which are under the master Ring, you call it?" - Gil asked pointedly, trying to stop the discussion or turn it into a more constructive one. Celebrimbor returned his focus to Gil, his face resolute and firm.

"He does. He has sixteen rings. Seventeen if you count the One. _'Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul'_. I don't think he realised my uncle taught me the Dark tongue when he left some notes in the workroom" - he said, after the other elves in the room recovered from the sound of that language . Gil felt his heart slowly recovering his pace after the terrible sounds had faded.

_He_ hadn't known that his cousin had learnt that horrible language.

"I am afraid I haven't so schooled, what was the meaning of those words?" - Glorfindel asked pointedly, his tone calm as usual. He seemed the least affected of them, but Gil gathered that someone who had faced a demon of flame and darkness had heard worse than the Black Tongue.

"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them" - Celebrimbor recited, his voice repeating the words as if they were some kind of ritual or verse.

The meaning was chilling enough as it was. He saw that even Galadriel had lost some of her usual composure at hearing them.

"And we have sixteen rings which answer to this... prophecy?" - Gil asked, before looking down to his own ring - "Can these other rings counteract their influence?" - he asked Celebrimbor in hope.

Celebrimbor's expression was uncertain, he seemed to consider his answer with great care.

"They can... help with the damage. If someone who was wearing one of the lesser rings was close to someone wearing mine, they could help their wearer to avoid any influence of the lesser ring. But, in general, the damage of the rings can be both great and difficult to spot as such" - he admitted grimly - "As I said before, the rings were made to play the strengths of the wearer and spot their weakness. I think Sauron altered the original design which was to counteract the weakness of the wearer and he planned to... use that weakness to control them" - he explained dully.

"So what is the use for those Rings, then?" - Celeborn asked again, his tone sceptical to Gil's ears. He was the most distrustful of Noldor's inventions of all of them and had the Sinda attitude against trying to interfere too much in Nature's ways. Not that Gil could blame him, but still he was being a bit too hostile at the moment. His question was still valid so he turned to Celebrimbor's for an answer.

The dark-haired Fëanorian seemed to have recovered some of his confidence because he looked back to Celeborn in defiance.

"They will help us to protect our Realms against Sauron’s coming darkness. They will help us rally our troops and heal them when necessary. They will act as a counterpoint to Sauron's influence and malice. If we spread their influence over our people, we will be able to avoid the worst of Sauron's actions with his own Ring" - Celebrimbor said.

Gil nodded thoughtfully with his head, his eyes turning back to the box in front of him with the remaining two rings inside it. Without taking his eyes from the Rings, he said out loud.

"So now, the question is, who is going to take the other two Rings?" - he asked the room in general.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul : One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them


	11. When the road darkens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for honesty and to make decisions for the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I am broaching an issue which has been in my mind for a while now. I read the Silmarillion a long time ago. On that first reading, particularly after having read Lord of the Rings first, the people of Gondolin and its history was fascinating and tragic.
> 
> Well, it's still tragic. The fall of Gondolin is a terrible thing to happen and no one deserves that. However, after having read a lot more about Fingolfin and Fingon, and knowing more about the whole context of that history. Well, Turgon's decision to leave and take a bunch of people - of his father's people - with him to build a city where only his chosen are allowed into... it's a bit fishy in my opinion. Did he have any right to do that? I mean this is a bit strange for us, with our time's way of thinking about freedom and democracy, but the Noldor - well all the cultures in Tolkien's word - were a Monarchy. Turgon was Fingolfin's son and subject and so was every elf who left with him. When they left and created their own Realm without their King's permission - because we know Gondolin was built and populated in secret - wasn't that... treason?
> 
> So, yes. I thought that Turgon was that noble figure. Such a noble King -and the only King we know who actually allowed his daughter to marry a mortal without being an ass about it, we have to give him that- but when seeing this from a different perspective, he is looking a bit shaky in the moral ground. And I thought for the people who stayed next to Fingonfin and Fingon, well, they wouldn't have wanted him as King (and the fact he was High King while he didn't leave Gondolin is another red flag for me) or his heirs. And certainly, they would have preferred Gil-Galad.
> 
> Also, I do count Gil-Galad as Fingon's son, not as someone from Finarfin's line. Even if I ship Fingon with Maedhros, Gil doesn't make any sense otherwise. I think, from the perspective of bloodlines and how those things work, it's the only reasonable conclusion. It doesn't make any sense for the High King's Crown to go from Fingolfin's line to Finarfin taking into account that there was still living heirs in Fingolfin's line (Idril and Eärendil) and Finarfin was never King on Middle Earth (so his heirs didn't have any right to the Crown)
> 
> I don't know what Christopher Tolkien was thinking when he said that, I can't believe that someone as meticulous as Tolkien (who kept track of the lunar cycles) would say that Gil-Galad was Finarfin's descendant. I think if he wanted to change him as Fingon's son, he would have probably reorganized half of the family tree to make this fit, which he did several times. But as it is published, when Turgon died, there was Idril and Eärendil to inherit the Crown so it doesn't make any sense that it would go to a completely different line which had no right to it. I think the confusion comes from the fact Turgon inherited before Gil-Galad, if Gil-Galad was Fingon's son he should have gotten the crown. But that _could_ be explained away because he was so young. So they chose an older relative, who _belonged_ to the Royal family: Turgon. And once he died, because Gil-Galad was now deemed old enough, the crown went back to him. But it was always kept in Fingolfin's line which is the one who had the right to it.
> 
> Sorry for the rant, it's just a bit absurd in my mind and it creates a lot of consistency holes if Gil-Galad comes from Finarfin's line. So I don't buy it, I prefer the original and published version of the story and I stick to that in my own fic. Also, I like Fingon and Fingolfin way better than Finrod and Finarfin so I prefer to think that the (probably) better High King of the Noldor - and longest reign - was his son. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions, of course.
> 
> Last, a quick note, for this chapter title: “Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.” I thought it was fitting for the growing darkness of the approaching war.
> 
> betaed by books4life16

Gildor looked at Istyar with fond exasperation. It was a very familiar feeling when his friend was trying to avoid Gildor's concern and advise. The young Sylvan wasn't ever rude or anything like that. Gildor had long suspected he was an expert in listening to someone without listening. There was a certain blankness in his expression that alerted Gildor when he was going to ignore his words and go his merry way regardless.

And right now, Gildor recognized Istyar's expression while the two of them walked around the palace's gardens talking. Gildor had been busy over the last few days since Celebrimbor's announcement, sending messages to every Company he knew of, warning them of the danger of Sauron's reappearance and the new 'weapon' he had in his power.

It had been a thankless task to inform his people of this new threat. Ranyare had written back immediately calling his cousin every kind of a fool for creating those rings in the first place. Gildor couldn't blame her. This wasn't the first time that the Noldor had created an artefact which had the potential of causing great harm for all free people. The fact that neither Fëanor nor Celebrimbor had planned for their works to be harmful didn't make it any better.

Istyar had kept his opinions to himself, despite having more reasons than most to curse Celebrimbor for his actions with Annatar. The younger elf had, however, kept his questions professional trying to figure out the reach and scope of the powers the rings gave to its wearers. And how much control Sauron had with the master ring. The One Ring as it was named by Celebrimbor at some point. Istyar's question was insightful and Gildor wasn't really surprised to realise he had a better understanding of the situation than any of them.

Gildor's suspicions of Istyar's abilities had been kept hidden, even from his closest confidants. He had realised that Istyar didn't wish for other people to know what he could do. Gildor had suspected he had been worried about attracting the wrong kind of attention, and with Sauron's reappearance and the situation they had found themselves in, he applauded him for the precaution. The current situation had made Istyar's potential abilities a matter more complicated than before, however. Istyar had been able to slip inside Sauron's dominion and rescue his most important prisoner under his own nose. Gildor was beyond grateful that his friend had done this, as he loved his cousin dearly. But he was also beyond worried about the attention he had brought on himself.

Which brought them to their current situation. Gildor had been looking for a way to discover how much his young friend had attracted Sauron's notice. Both Istyar and Celebrimbor had been very close-mouthed about the later rescue.

Istyar looked at Gildor sideways and he realised he had been so focused on his thoughts that he had stopped talking a few minutes ago, Seeing Gildor's attention returned to the present, Istyar raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Gildor. You aren't usually the most focused of the elves" - Istyar commented wryly - "But it's bad even for you to stop talking mid-word. I mean, I was getting bored about the topic at hand, but that is me. Shouldn't you be more interested in what you are saying? What is eating you?" - Istyar asked bluntly, his eyes showing his mirth.

"Brat. You are bored with the topic at hand because you don't think you need to be under anyone's supervision. But you agreed to take Ereinion's advice under consideration and become someone's apprentice" - Gildor reminded him. Istyar made a face.

"I did. But I didn't expect this to become such an official situation. He hasn't told me who he believes should be this 'mentor'" - he made a strange gesture with his hands then - "Because he wants to talk at them first. Which I appreciate as I don't want to be anyone's burden. But still, I would like to know who he is thinking of" - Gildor's face went dark at the reminder of Istyar's past treatment. He hadn't been very explicit about what he had gone through but Gildor could read between lines.

"I am sure we will know soon. And you don't need to agree to whoever he is thinking of, Istyar. Actually, I have been meaning to say this and I hope this doesn't come as a surprise but, if you wish, you could come with me"- Gildor said, taking advantage of the opening to offer what it had been in his mind for a while now.

Istyar looked at him with curiosity although his expression had a hint of mischievousness when he answered.

"I appreciate the offer, Gildor, but didn't you say that Ranyare and I shouldn't be allowed to be in the same forest for longer than a week again? I think you were planning to send the King a letter to make an edit on that" - Istyar asked innocently, the brat. He had forgotten about that. Gildor sighed at the memory which had prompted that order.

"The two of you released a herd of boars! The dwarves were furious!" - he complained, remembering the headache that had been.

"They were mistreating them! Their King was more furious by their treatment than he was for us releasing them... eventually" - he amended.

Gildor remembered the dwarf King's reaction at Istyar arguments. The dwarf had first been angry enough to cleave the elf in half with his axe when his captain explained his 'version' of what had happened. Dwarves were notoriously stubborn and the relationship between the two races had started to sour despite Ereinion's best efforts. With all of them crammed around the room and the King apparently disposed to believe his kinsman's version Gildor had little hope for their own version being heard. Or that the King would care about the animals' treatment. Istyar, however, was stubborn and surprisingly convinced that the King would agree with them.

And he had been very convincing. The dwarf King had initially looked like a dark cloud while Istyar started to explain his own view of the situation. But eventually, the Sylvan had managed to turn the situation around in his favour. It had been a thing of beauty seeing Istyar help the dwarf captain to hang himself with his words and admit what he had done, believing that the King wouldn't consider his treatment of the beast a matter of concern.

He had been wrong. The dwarf King had been furious. He had apparently a great love for the beasts who carried him and his soldiers into war and the admission made by one of his main captains that he hadn't been treating them with the respect they deserved…

Well, the dwarf King had looked angry enough to _cleave_ his own kinsman by then.

"Still, the two of you should have thought of some other solution. Releasing those beasts in the middle of the encampment was a bit... drastic" - Gildor said, knowing that it was a losing battle. Istyar's smile told him that he knew he had won that argument.

"The point is that we are banned of being together long enough to 'think any other absurd plot'" - Istyar quoted with his hands - "So, as much as I appreciate your offer, I have to respectfully decline as Ranyare is your second and it would very difficult for me to obey that other if I were to become your ward" - he concluded satisfied.

Before Gildor could say anything further, a commotion at the other side of the garden drew their attention. The shining hair exiting the palace was impossible to mistake and Gildor shook his head at some of the men's antics when seeing the golden Captain. The noise that had drawn their attention had been a pair of the men's diplomats visiting Gil-Galad knocking against each other when they had become distracted at Glorfindel's appearance. Turning back to Istyar he saw his companion's fascinated look fixed on the blonde too, but the familiar light in that green eyes made him suspect that his friend had a different reason for his distraction.

"Should I warn Glorfindel to be wary?" - he asked wryly - "The look in your eyes makes me wonder if you are going to ask him again if he polishes his hair" - he observed. Istyar seemed to return to himself.

"It's just so _shiny!_. I can't believe that is natural. The Malfoys would kill - literally - for a hair like that" - Istyar complained - "I can't believe that the King would let him into a battlefield. He must be like a beacon" - Istyar looked back between Gildor and Glorfindel, like comparing them - "Your hair is very blonde too, but I think you could hide it with a good helmet. I am not certain that Glorfindel could do that" - he concluded with a shake of his head.

"I think Ereinion is counting on Glorfindel being some kind of a beacon. That is the reason he is sending him to recruit warriors for the war. I suspect he will become one of the symbols for our side. A show of the Valar's grace" - Gildor admitted.

Istyar's reaction was too fast to understand, but Gildor definitely saw something pass through his face. Before he could question his friend, the Sylvan changed the subject again, returning to their previous topic.

"I will wait and see what the King is planning. As much as I like you Gildor, you know I am not needed with you. I know the King has tasked you with visiting the Companies to recruit them as his ears and eyes on the Realm. As much as I would love to help with that, Sauron has seen my face and I wouldn't dare to be part of that effort for fear of drawing his attention" - Istyar admitted.

Gildor forgot all about Istyar's previous reaction to those words. His initial reason to talk to Istyar alone finally came to light.

"So, you interacted with Sauron when you rescued Celebrimbor? The two of you have barely said a thing about what happened" - Gildor observed warily, wanting the information but not wanting to spook his friend. Istyar's green eyes lowered to the floor, avoiding Gildor's gaze.

"Celebrimbor has been staying silent on my behalf. I think he realised I didn't want to talk about it and he has respect for my wishes" - Istyar conceded, before looking around them - "This is not the place to talk about this anyway" - he warned.

"Let's go inside. This is important Istyar. I understand your wish of privacy and your concerns but we can't know less than Sauron has already figured out about you" - Gildor said, taking the Sylvan's elbow to lead him inside the palace again.

Istyar followed obediently, his expression carefully blanked while they entered into the palace looking for a private place to talk.

* * *

Gil looked at Elrond's serious face while the Peredhel entered the room with papers in his hands. Gil leaned back against the headrest of the chair suppressing a groan. He had already spent the morning going through a whole mountain of paperwork barely making a dent on his work before some of his aides brought him more of it.

Elrond saw Gil's face and shook his head in response at what he saw on his cousin's face.

"Don't worry. I just came straight from my rooms with a few of my notes" - he waved the papers in his hands - "You don't need to sign these ones, I just brought them for reference" - Gil didn't repress the relieved sigh at that and Elrond smiled in response - "I have already sent word to the Men through some of the fleet ships we had at the harbour. Even if any of the messages are 'lost' in some way at least one of those should reach the current King" - Elrond continued calmly.

Gil frowned in response, the implication of Elrond's words clear.

"You suspect that some of those messages will be 'lost'?" - he asked worriedly. They were allies with the Numenoreans since their first King, Elrond's twin brother Elros. The Realm of the Men was growing strong and becoming a force to be reckoned. It was a good thing to have such an ally.

As long as it kept being one.

"I made it clear that I expected an answer from Tar-Telperiën. But it doesn't hurt to make certain. We want for our message to reach the Numenoreans as soon as possible" - Elrond said evenly like he hadn't implied that his brother's people could be less than trustworthy.

Gil looked at his cousin in surprise. It wasn't like Elrond to distrust his mortal kin without reason. While the Peredhel had chosen his elven path, he had kept a close eye on his brother and his descendants and helped where he could. Elrond returned his look evenly.

"Have you heard anything that makes you suspect foul play?" - Gil asked worriedly.

"Not as such" - Elrond denied - "But we can't forget the fact that he was under our very nose all this time. If Sauron was able to slip under Celebrimbor's - and Galadriel's - notice, it's possible that he, or his people, have infiltrated the men’s ranks also" - Elrond explained. Gil made a face at the reminder.

"He is slippery" - he conceded. Elrond nodded in agreement and added.

"And he - and his late master - have lied and cajoled their way out of trouble in the past and into important figures' good graces"

Gil nodded in agreement, turning his attention back to Elrond's notes.

"And what about those?" - he asked warily again.

Elrond was a wonderful heir: intelligent, organised, hard-working and motivated. At some points, Gil had wondered if he would have been a better High King than him, and could have even enjoyed it. Gil - like his father - much preferred the practical aspects of duty, such as crushing his enemies in a clean, straightforward battle, than the dirty plots of the Court.

However, Elrond's place in the inheritance line wasn't without controversy. _A lot of it_. For the elders of his people, the remaining families which had crossed the Helcaraxë with Fingolfin and his host, he was a reminder of the arrogant King Thingol whose negative to join forces with the Noldor had - in their eyes - weakened their fight against Melkor and ultimately led to many of their leaders' deaths. Such as Gil's own father Fingon. And while most of them belonged to Fingolfin's people, and therefore hold little love for the Feanorians, they had considered Thingol's obsession with the Silmaril another failure.

Besides that, Elrond's other side of the family wasn't without controversy. Most of the remaining elves of Gondolin had ended up on Gil's Court - those who hadn't taken advantage of the Valar's forgiveness and sailed back with their host to Valinor. For them, Turgon had been a good, noble King and Elrond was his indisputable heir.

But they were a minority. And for those who hadn't lived on Gondolin, the opinions were divided. There were some who thought that Turgon had abandoned his people - _his King_ \- when he left to found his secret city. That he had weakened the Noldor by taking almost a fourth of Fingolfin's people, and warriors, with him. Neither Fingolfin nor Fingon had ever spoken against Turgon after his leaving, in public, they had always stood together and claimed that Turgon had left to found another safe city for their people with the King's blessing.

But Gil knew that wasn't true. Turgon hadn't asked for permission to leave or to take the people he had taken. And many of the oldest of their people, who had lived at Fingolfin's Court when the divide had happened, knew it too. So, for most of that people Turgon's foray as High King of the Noldor, especially taking into account he hadn't bothered on leaving his city and actually being a King for _all_ of his people, had been a mistake and he had only been a placeholder for the true heir: Ereinion Gil-Galad, Fingon's son.

So, yes. For most of Gil's subjects, Elrond was a controversial heir and they were waiting to see if Gil gave them a _true_ heir from the line they felt had never abandoned them or betrayed their trust. Gil, while he was happy with his choice of heir, wasn't going to deny the possibility that he would, at some point, find someone to love and marry and have children. And the possibility of it kept the worst of the lot off his back.

While Gil had been musing, Elrond had spread his papers on his desk and Gil turned his attention back to the present. There were several notes on his desk and Gil looked from them to Elrond in question. Elrond tapped the closest paper to him, while he started to explain.

"I have been looking over my notes trying to organise our resources. We will need to be ready and you will have your hands full getting our allies ready and amassing our forces" - Elrond explained before turning one of the papers - and simplified map of Eriador - and showed it to Gil - "I've been thinking for a while that we are going to need to explore some of this area" - Elrond circled the lands closer to the Misty Mountains - "Lindon is a good place for you to reign in time of peace, and I think it will be a safe place for you to be for now. But with Ost-in-Edhil gone, we need some power inland. A way to get control of the mountain pass and be closer to news from the East" - Elrond observed.

Gil looked at the map to the area Elrond was pointing out. While his words made sense, strategically speaking, it was a risky move to send someone to that area. They wouldn't have an easy way to get reinforcements if they were attacked. He pointed this out to Elrond.

"A military stronghold could be settled there" - Gil said cautiously - "But they will be exposed and too far to be helped if they are attacked. I am wary of giving Sauron such an easy target giving how easily he overcame Ost-in-Edhil's defences" - he admitted.

"I was thinking of something a bit more subtle than our cousin's city" - Elrond explained - "I have travelled this area" - he pointed out a place on the map, close to the mountains and next to the river Bruinen - "It's filled with valleys and narrows gorges. I think it could be possible to establish a small garrison there and be easily defensible with a small number of soldiers" - Elrond said with conviction. Gil observed his cousin broodingly, something in Elrond's words had given him away.

"You want to lead this enterprise and establish this place" - Gil observed. Elrond's grey eyes rose to his cousin's.

"I've been... seeing a Valley in my dreams of late" - Elrond admitted.

"In your dreams...? You mean with your foresight?"- Gil asked warily. Elrond's gift to see the future was a rare skill, particularly in someone who had been born in Middle Earth. But Elrond's Maia blood had made him capable of things believed lost for their race. Gil held healthy respect about those gifts but he worried for his younger cousin and the emotional cost that those abilities carried to those who had them.

"Perhaps. I can't be sure. When I first travelled through those forests I felt in love with the place. I don't know if my own impressions of the place were so strong that I would dream of it months after" - Elrond admitted - "But foresight or not, I am confident that it could be a good place for us to control the mountain passage. I will take responsibility for it and assume the risk" - he continued.

Gil tapped on the map thoughtfully. He wasn't happy at the thought of sending his cousin - and heir - into such a risky situation. Still, he knew that even his father Fingon had ruled his own lands when he was his father's heir. It made sense for the heir to the Crown to learn about ruling, taking control of a smaller part of the Realm once they were old enough. And Elrond had shown himself capable and responsible enough to take up the duty.

Also, it was usually preferred for the King and his heir _not to be_ too long at the same place. It was an ugly part of ruling and the trappings of royal life, but it was something Gil had become accustomed long ago. For the well-being of their people, Elrond and he couldn't be lost at the same time.

Still, even with all that, Gil didn't think he was being irrational by being uncomfortable with letting Elrond take over such a risky campaign. To allow his only heir to travel to the Misty Mountains and found a new garrison, with months of travelling, rough living and dangerous enemies all around without a safe place near didn't seem like the safest decision to take.

Elrond, who had been patiently waiting for Gil to reach his own conclusion seemed to read some of his thoughts in his face because he continued his argument.

"I know the risks Gil, I understand your hesitation. But I would be a poor subject of the Realm if I were to stay safely behind while others took this risk and wait until it was safe to go" - he explained - "Our people have always led by example. By being at the front lines. You did this, as did your father, and his father. You were bare of age when you took the crown and fought against Morgoth. " - Elrond continued - "I need to do this. To find my own way and show myself - and others - that I can do this" - he concluded.

Gil repressed his sigh of defeat but by Elrond's amused expression he already knew he had won the discussion. Gil had, however, a small surprise of his own. Leaning back again against the chair behind him he conceded his defeat out loud.

"Very well cousin. You will have your garrison. I am, however, going to ask you another favour" - he said calmly. Elrond raised an inquiring eyebrow - "It may be a favour for yourself too" - he continued gesturing towards the papers on his desk - "You will need help for the duties you have acquired. A trusted companion to help you with the organisation" - Gil explained. Elrond looked wary but not opposed to the idea.

"I will take people with me to help, of course, besides the soldiers. I hope you will allow me to pick some of your people for this venture" - Elrond said slowly measuring his words - "But I think you are thinking of someone specifically" - Elrond ventured warily.

"I am" - Gil confirmed before he explained the plan he had been contemplating since he had heard Istyar's tale - "As you know, Gildor's young ward, Istyar is not of age as yet, but his.... _personal_ story has made it such that he is used to being on his own" - Gil explained.

"I have heard, yes. I noticed he seemed very independent regardless of his age, and capable" - Elrond nodded carefully, quickly understanding Gil's intentions - "You want me to take him with me?" - he asked, surprised nonetheless. He wouldn't have thought his current plans to be a safe choice to send someone who had admitted being almost a child even if he hadn't been treated as one.

"Istyar has made clear he is not to be treated like a child" - Gil said, mirroring Elrond's thoughts - "I promised him I wouldn't treat him as one, but that he would be... assigned as an assistant to someone I trusted to round up his education and help him to fill the gaps in it" - he explained. During his conversation with Istyar, and the hints he had gotten from Gildor, it had been clear that the younger elf had a very spotty base of knowledge, being able to heal Celebrimbor of his torture but unaware of the age of majority for their kind. He hoped that someone like Elrond, who had lived through a similar experience of a very strange childhood, could help the Sylvan better than a more conventional elf.

Elrond seemed taken aback at Gil's explanation, looking down at his notes clearly lost in his own head. Gil waited for his response, knowing he couldn't press his cousin in this. Even if he hadn't promised Istyar he wouldn't force anyone into taking him as an apprentice, Gil wouldn't have done so regardless. It wouldn't help anyone to force them to foster Istyar. At worst, Gil himself would take the young elf as his own ward.

He would have done this without hesitation. He had been about to do it when he first heard of Istyar's tale... but something in Istyar's manner and tale - which Gil had noticed had still many gaps - had reminded Gil of his young cousins when he had first met them. Brave and clever and capable yes. But set apart from the rest of them by a heritage no one else shared.

Istyar, at first sight, shouldn't remember Gil from Elrond and Elros like that. But he did and Gil trusted his own instincts.

"There is a difference between not treating someone as a child and sending him to what is going to be a military mission for several very long months" - Elrond observed interrupting Gil's thoughts.

"Istyar was working - very successfully I am told - as an adventurer for the last few years" - Gil explained and Elrond raised an impressed eyebrow - "He is well used to the wild and to fight against the enemy. I would say he could be an asset on this expedition" - he observed. Elrond nodded thoughtfully.

"He could be. And his instincts about healing seem to be spot on too. He healed Celebrimbor as well as any experienced healer" - he admitted freely - "Probably better given the fact they were out there in the wild. And I am not certain as right now on how he managed to get him as healed as he was when they arrived here" - Elrond shook his head at this - "I have been meaning to track him down and get some answers from him but Gildor has been surprisingly protective" - he admitted.

Gil laughed in response at the complaint.

"So, will you take him on, cousin?" - Gil asked finally. Elrond took a deep breath before answering.

"I will ask him to be my apprentice" - he conceded easily before he smiled teasingly to Gil - "But don't come complaining to me later. He looks like a handful, any mischievousness coming from this will be on your own head"- he warned wickedly.

Gil groaned in response.

* * *

Harry entered Gildor's room behind the older elf, still undecided about what to tell his friend.

When he had first arrived at Middle Earth, it had become very clear to him that magic and wizards such as he had known at his former home were almost unknown in this new one. It wasn't that the elves didn't have some magic of their own. From Lúthien Tinúviël to Ranyare, every elf he had heard of - or met - had some magic of their own even if they didn't call it so. Some were flashy such as singing to sleep Dark Lords - and wouldn't that have been a treat against Voldemort, he could just imagine Snape's face if he would have proposed to sing Voldemort to sleep - some less spectacular such as the ability to speak to beasts.

Harry's own brand of magic was something else. With his newfound race, he had acquired some of the elven ways of magic: he was able to heal, speak to animals and had some skills in mind-speak. But he had also retained his former magic. And he had realised that his past way of doing magic wasn't available for most of the races in Middle Earth. Probably the closest thing he had found to it among the free people had been Celebrimbor's rings of power.

Actually, enchanting objects was probably as close as Harry had seen to the magic he was familiar with back home. Enchanted helms made by the dwarves, strange swords almost sentient and now cursed rings. But waving a wand around to heal? To transform a rat into a cup? When he had carefully asked around about it, the answer had been the same: the Valar or their Maiar harnessed that power. And what was Harry talking about wands?

So Harry had decided to keep a low profile. Even before Sauron made his spectacular return to Middle Earth politics - and wasn't Harry's luck that he had chosen to do this in the city Harry had chosen as his base of operations - it had been very clear that a war between Light and Dark was being brewed in Middle Earth.

And Harry wanted nothing to do with it. He had done his part already. He has lost his family, his childhood, and apparently any possibility of returning to his friends and home because of Voldemort and a stupid prophecy. He didn't want to lose the small peace he had managed to reach here by becoming their pet sorcerer against the forces of darkness.

He would try to help. It wasn't in his nature to stand aside while others suffered. He would even use his power if necessary. But he wouldn't be like Glorfindel: a shining beacon of Light and some kind of show of the Valar's grace. He wouldn't allow anyone to use him like that. 

Never again.

Gildor moved to the back of the room to open a small cupboard roaming around its interior looking for something while Harry walked around the room curiously. This was clearly not a visitor room such as the one Harry had been placed into, but Gildor's personal quarters in his cousin's palace. There were some personal belongings that Harry could see Gildor use and it didn't have the sterile feeling that guest quarters had.

Gildor's exclamation of pleasure returned Harry's attention to the older elf. He was waving around a delicate bottle.

"I knew I left some of this behind. I am positive that this discussion merits some of this" - Gildor said showing what Harry was almost positive was an alcoholic beverage. He found two clean glasses and poured it, passing one of them to Harry. Harry took a cautious sip, he had encountered before the elves idea of a 'light' drink. Despite his new body's abilities, he had the suspicion that the ability to withstand elven alcohol was a learned skill.

Gildor took a seat next to the window and waved at Harry.

"Take a seat Istyar. Relax. I am your friend and I hope you know that I would never betray your trust" - Gildor said with a kind tone, his blue guileless eyes fixed on Harry's. Harry sighed in response and took a seat next to the messy desk. He fixed his gaze in the drink trying to gather his courage to make the decision he needed to. Gildor waited patiently, taking a sip from his own glass.

Harry finally started to talk.

"Would you keep my trust even if what I tell you could change the course of this war?" - Harry asked softly without raising his eyes from the glass, waiting for Gildor's response.

"I would say you are being dramatic except for the fact that I was there when Eärendil single-handy brought the Valar's army back to this shores to fight the Dark One" - Gildor said with a careful tone.

"I can't compare my situation to Eärendil" - Harry admitted - "I am not claiming to have the key to end this war. But I think that my skills are rare enough that some people may want to use them" - he finally lifted his gaze to Gildor's seeing the compassionate gaze fixed in him.

"None here will force you to act against your will, Istyar. None will try to use you or your abilities" - Gildor said forcefully - "The fact that you are worried about this as much as you are makes me want to find your previous guardians and have... a few words with them" - Gildor said disgustedly. He was so agitated that he rose from his seat and started to walk around the room waving his hands - "I can barely believe that our people would fall as low as using one of our children like that. I am disgusted at the thought and so would be an elf of worth" - he turned in Harry's direction - "Your relatives weren't elves of honour" - he affirmed.

Harry smiled at the thought, aware of Gildor's surprised reaction at her smile. But Harry couldn't help it, he wondered what his aunt would have said at being accused of that.

Probably she couldn't get past the 'elf' part. Seeing Gildor's worried gaze, he decided to come clean.

"My relatives weren't 'elves of honour' indeed Gildor" - he admitted with a careless shrug - "They weren't elves at all, actually" - he revealed.

Gildor stopped in the middle of the room surprised.

"They weren't..." - he muttered like he was trying to make sense of the words. He looked at Harry up and down - "Are you... peredhel?" - he asked softly.

"Not... as such" - Harry admitted, although he wondered if there weren't some truth in that theory - "I... it's very complicated, I don't know if you are going to believe me" - he admitted - "I wasn't born in this world Gildor, and I truly can't tell why I arrived here" - he confessed finally. Gildor looked surprised but not incredulous and Harry was surprisingly encouraged by that.  
"I was born to James and Lily Potter in 1980, in another world with a very different calendar" - he started.

At Gildor's encouraging nod, he started his tale haltingly, taking courage of his friend's nonjudgmental attitude and patience.

"My name is Harry James Potter" - he confessed - "But I didn't know this until I was four. You see, when I was 15 months old my parents were killed by... a dark wizard and I was sent to live with my mother's sister and her family. She... didn't like me and I didn't know the reason why until much later" - he said.

Gildor looked surprised and enraged but he visibly tried to keep his temper, keeping his attention in Harry's words.

"A dark wizard? Like a Maia?" - he asked. Harry shook his head in response, knowing this was the hour of truth.

"No" - he denied - "He was fully human, and he had magic" - he said and added before Gildor could make another question and he lost his bravery - "And so am I" - he affirmed, and amended - "Or I was at least. Human, I mean. When I crossed into this world I became... different. But I didn't lose my magic"- he concluded. He paused, waiting for Gildor's reaction.

"You were... human" - Gildor repeated - "A magical human?" - he asked, his voice fighting incredulity. Harry nodded silently, taking out his wand and showing it to Gildor. The elf walked closer and looked at it without trying to touch it showing the respect that _specially_ the older elves had at magical artefacts.

"I got this when I was eleven and I was first told I was a wizard" - Harry explained and made a slight motion with the wand, wordlessly casting a _Lumus_. The bright light lightened the end of the wand and Gildor took a step back in surprise. Harry kept the light on, waiting patiently on Gildor to respond. The older elf approached again waving his hand around the source of light without touching.

"It isn't warm" - Gildor commented - "It actually looks a bit like a Fëanorian lamp, but without the stone and whiter in colour" - he said in a fascinated voice.

Harry nodded in response. He had spent a considerable amount of time trying to find any correlation between his powers and the ones which existed in his new home.

"I have read of them, Fëanor enchanted stones to make light, didn't he?" - Harry said animatedly, relaxing before Gildor's open attitude - "I have found some similarities between my powers and some of the things elves enchant objects to do" - he added, happy to be able to share his theories with someone. He sent a mental apology to his former friend for the little patience he and Ron had with her when she was trying to explain some of her research. It felt really frustrating to have so many thoughts and theories and being unable to discuss them with someone.

He took a deep breath and continued.

"That was how I saved Celebrimbor" - he confessed. Gildor's sharp attention back to him - "That why neither of us gave a full report of what happened because if we did it would have been quickly apparent that I wasn't a normal elf" - he said, mustering all his vaunted Gryffindor valour to keep his eyes on Gildor.

Gildor's non-judgmental attitude and open curiosity made Harry feel freer than he had in a long time. Gildor seemed to sense some of that because his smile turned even kinder and fond.

"Tell me all. Show me what you can do" - the blonde said warmly, and Harry - for the first time in his life - was happy to obey the order.

* * *

Harry entered the King's study after the soft call from inside. He was starting to become used to the opulent place and the small mess Gil-Galad's desk always had so he barely spared it a sidelong look before focusing his attention on the King and his heir.

Gil-Galad was standing at his desk while Elrond was in front of it, both of them looked composed and focused on the papers on top of the desk. Harry wondered if he had been mistaken when he had understood the servant that he had to go to the King's study as soon as possible. The two of them looked engaged in their planning and Harry didn't know why he would have been asked there.

He had been giving Gildor a summarised view of his life and a quick rundown of the spells he knew - and could be cast without getting into trouble, Harry didn't want to cast a _Reducto_ on one of the Palace's walls. It wouldn't be... discrete.

Elrond raised his gaze from the map with a smile before Harry could think of leaving again and waved him closer to the table.

"Istyar! Come closer and tell me what do you think about these lands. Gil tells me that you have been working as an adventurer for a while so you may be familiar with the terrain or the surrounding lands" - Elrond said warmly.

Harry walked closer to the desk in curiosity now. Pausing next to Elrond, he looked down to what he noticed now were maps of the lands next to the Misty Mountains and North of Ost-in-Edhil, close to Bruinen river. Cocking his head to the side, he tried to make sense of the annotations in there, clearly some kind of personal code that someone had been using to catalogue the different features around the area.

"Um..." - he muttered looking to the area trying to remember when it had been the last time he went through it. As far as he remembered it was a pretty wild stretch of land with a very difficult orography. Harry had crossed it several times on his way to Bree or to the Mountains and used its beautiful Valleys and high cliffs to lose some unpleasant followers.

He explained this to his companions, not missing Elrond's satisfied expression at his words.

"So, would you say that it's a defensible place?" - Elrond asked. Harry frowned in thought.

"It's... you can't send an army to fight there" - he said surprised - "But then, neither could the orcs or trolls fight as an army" - he hefted.

Elrond nodded agreeably, looking at the King's direction pointedly. Harry looked up to him too, seeing the thoughtful expression on Gil-Galad's face and wondering what point was Elrond trying to make. Gil-Galad seemed to reach some conclusion and turned to Harry with his own question.

"It sounds like a very wild place. Can you think of any place where construction could be built?" - the King asked, looking between the two of them. Harry looked between him and Elrond bewildered at the question. Build? The place had cliffs and mountains and rivers everywhere! Where could anyone build anything larger than a cabin? And Harry had the impression that Gil-Galad wasn't thinking of a small cabin here.

Before Harry could explain this to the King, Elrond interrupted.

"You don't have enough imagination cousin. The fact there is no _obvious_ place to build something is what makes it so perfect to do it so!" - Elrond said more passionately and excitedly than Harry had heard him talk ever before. It was a surprising attitude for the often solemn Peredhel.

Harry looked back to the papers seeing some roughly drafted structures apparently designed to stand not on land, or at least not on a _flat_ land. He looked at them in curiosity. He had seen many gravity-defiant buildings in the magical world but those designs looked like they were trying to _integrate_ into the terrain but still have enough support to stay standing.

Harry tried to remember the terrain he had seen on his travels and thought that those sketches may just work with what he could remember of it.

Still, it didn't explain his presence at the study. He doubted that his zero knowledge about building and architecture could be of any help in this discussion. He cleared his throat pointedly interrupting the older elves bickering. Elrond seemed to remember his presence and turned back to him.

"Do you think you could use your previous knowledge of the area to help an expedition to explore it, Istyar?" - Elrond asked surprisingly. Harry was taken aback at the question. Expedition? He had gotten the impression that the Realm was preparing for War, and they were planning an expedition for Eregion?

He looked back at the map to give himself time to think about the question. Could he help an expedition to that area? Probably, yes. He had crossed the lands several times and although he hadn't explored them in full, he was very familiar with much of the terrain. He could make some rough maps of the place and he could easily explore it if he was told what they were looking for.

"I could help"- he said cautiously - "And I could probably help even more if I knew what exactly you were expecting to build there. Some kind of outpost?" - he asked. Gil-Galad and Elrond exchanged a look before the King answered.

"We are still deciding the scope. But outpost is a close concept, yes. It will have more military focus than anything else right now" - the King admitted. Harry nodded in response, already going through his mental map of the area trying to pinpoint the best place for it. He didn't have Ron's strategic mind, but he wasn't only about improvising either.

"Would you like to come with us, then? Help us with this project" - Elrond asked then. Harry looked up again, surprised.

"Are you going there, my lord?" - he asked. Elrond nodded in response.

"I am leading the expedition. Gil has given me leave to work in this and to take the people I need for this" - Elrond explained - "And I would like you with me" - he said firmly. Harry looked between the two of them, suspiciously. He hadn't forgotten the King's promise to find him a _mentor_.

"Would you? Like it, I mean" - he clarified - "I hope his Majesty hasn't forced you to offer this. I don't want to become a burden and this expedition looks to be a long one" - he observed.

Elrond made a complicated face at his words making Harry suspect the idea hadn't been his to start with, however, he took Harry's hand in his and addressed him seriously.

"Gil-Galad told me of your... situation and the promise he made you. It was his idea, initially, to recommend you for this quest" - he admitted honestly - "But I wouldn't have accepted you if I didn't think you were right for it Istyar. It would be too dangerous otherwise, this expedition is going to send us into the wild. I heard you have been working as an adventurer for a long time, and you know this area better than anyone else I could find in Lindon. You are more an asset to this than anyone else right now" - he said firmly, honestly.

Harry bit his lip in thought. He couldn't help to be wary of this, given his story. But Elrond's words sounded true and he had no reason to lie to him. As he had said, the expedition was dangerous enough without taking someone inappropriate with them.

Harry had learnt to reason his decisions, instead of going with his first impulse over the years. He wasn't the First Year who had walked into the Dark Lord's hands to save a stone which didn't need to be saved.

But still, his gut feeling hadn't left him, and right now it was telling him that this was a good choice for him. To do something new, exciting, dangerous. Being useful and part of something important. Because if Elrond was leading this, the King's own heir, Harry knew it must be key for the Realm and maybe the War. And at the same time, it took Harry from the spotlight of the War and hopefully out of Sauron's notice.

And away from Celebrimbor and the memories of that disaster.

With heart and reason so aligned, he didn't doubt any longer. Looking back between Elrond and Gil-Galad, he gave them his decision.

"I will go"


	12. Love mingled with grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry’s and Elrond’s travelling is starting to be planned. Some people are not happy about it. In the meantime a few familiar faces arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter title: _“The world is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places. But still there is much that is fair. And though in all lands, love is now mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater”_. Well, certainly Harry and Celebrimbor’s love is very much mingled with grief, so pretty self-explanatory. 
> 
> I have strong feelings about Ron and his friendship with Harry. This is my opinion, of course, and Harry’s opinion here, is influenced by mine . I, despite JKR best attempts, don’t like Ron much. I mean, he is a child of course, I don’t pretend that I would be half as brave as any of them are at their adventures, but this is fiction and I am not talking about that. It’s funny but he fails at being a good friend, for me, not when he needs to be brave but when he needs to be a decent person. I think GOF was the worst for me. The thing with Harry having his name put in the goblet showed Ron’s worse face, and the fact he kept it as long as the second task… And there are plenty other instances in the books. I think JKR got lazy when she ended the books and put Harry with Ginny and Ron with Hermione. It doesn’t fit the story we have been given up until then, at all. 
> 
> Also, I was planning to post this at Christmas, but time get away from me (I underestimated how lazy I was going to feel just at the start of the holidays) but well, with a bit of delay, I hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> betaed by books4life16

Celebrimbor entered Gil's study with a heavy step, still tired despite the week he had spent in the Healing Halls. Elrond had been concerned about his apparent lethargy to the extent he had asked Istyar about it, but the young Sylvan didn't seem surprised. He had explained to the older healer that the medication he had used on Celebrimbor had healed him to the cost of taking a lot of his energy. The escape had given Celebrimbor a false sense of energy which had made him crash the moment they had arrived at a safe place.

All this had happened away from Celebrimbor's hearing, of course. Celebrimbor hadn't seen Istyar since he had been forced to submit to his checkup and the younger elf had vanished from Celebrimbor's sight since then. Celebrimbor would have thought him gone if not for Elrond's occasional comments about him. Gil-Galad had made him Istyar's mentor - and hadn't he been surprised to hear about Istyar's actual age - and Elrond and he had spent a great deal of the past days planning an expedition to Eriador.

Again, this sparked a tumble of different feelings on Celebrimbor. When he had initially lost Istyar, he had felt guilty about the pain he had inflicted on the younger elf, but a part of him had been so wrapped in Annatar's lies that he hadn't understood the magnitude of what he had brought with his actions.

Istyar had been the first person in a very long time - if ever - that had made Celebrimbor feel like he could be something besides Fëanor's grandson, besides the last Great Smith of the Noldor, besides his family's last-ditch at redemption.

Istyar hadn't paid attention to Celebrimbor's heritage. He had known who he was but he didn't seem to care about his family or his past. He didn't assume he liked smithing because his grandfather and father had been famous smiths. He had even asked Celebrimbor why he had chosen to become a smith! He never asked him about his family or the Oath. He had taken Celebrimbor as he was and never expected for him to be anything more .

At the same time, he hadn't accepted his family or his past as an excuse for his behaviour. He had expected Celebrimbor to treat him as an equal in their relationship. He had expected for Celebrimbor to apologise if he made a mistake or insulted him - and apologised to him in return when he was at fault.

Annatar's attention had been flattering at the start. While the Maia hadn't been anything like Istyar, his attention had reminded Celebrimbor of Istyar's in some ways. As with the Sylvan, Annatar didn't seem to find fault in Celebrimbor's family. He didn't expect him to be ashamed of his heritage, of his name.

If only he had known! Of course, Sauron, Gothaur the Cruel hadn't found fault with the worst of Celebrimbor's and his family's actions!

Finally taking a seat before Gil's desk, he focused again on his cousin's countenance. Gil looked tired, his bright blue eyes still sharp but something on his posture, on the cast of his shoulders gave Celebrimbor the impression of a great burden which was dragging his cousin down.

Gil was looking down to the maps on his desk, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration but he lifted his eyes to Celebrimbor's at his entrance.

"Celebrimbor! You are looking better. Has Elrond finally let you go?" - he asked.

"He has" - Celebrimbor said, relieved - "He has sent me away with a book full of instructions about what I can do and what I can't and recommendations for my recovery, but he has finally conceded that keeping me at the Healing Halls is not going to do me any more good" - he concluded. Gil nodded in response, leaning back to rest against the backrest of the chair looking over Celebrimbor with discerning eyes.

Celebrimbor was surprised to be reminded of Gil's father at that look. Fingon had been mostly known for his laid back attitude and warm countenance, but Celebrimbor had known him very well - and in some of Fingon's more difficult times - and he had known that under that warm, friendly facade lay a serious King with a core of Mithril.

Gil had inherited that, but in him, it was a more common attitude, not something hidden behind Fingon's friendly attitude. For those who had known Fingon from afar, it seemed like his son's traits had jumped generations and Gil was more like his grandfather, the imposing Fingolfin. But Celebrimbor knew that it wasn't so. Fingon had just hidden it better than his father or his son.

"You have turned pensive" - Gil observed, his sharp grey eyes fixed on Celebrimbor.

"You just reminded me of your father just then, and now" - Celebrimbor admitted freely - "He was... very intense with those he cared for, able to see every minute thing about you. He has a way of looking at you that you knew you better came clean with what you had done" - he explained with a fond smile - "You looked very much like him right now, trying to see if I was alright" - he concluded.

Gil's smile was fond and warm, but with an edge of grief. Gil had lost his father far too soon to war and duty, even before he had lost him to death. However, he had loved him and Celebrimbor knew that Fingon had adored his son, always keeping a stream of letters between him and his son even when they weren't at the same place. Only for Gil's safety, Fingon had conceded to send his son away and he had done it with great grief. Even his worst detractors had admired the High King for his sacrifice and no one could doubt it had been a difficult one, probably the most difficult.

"That is good to know" - Gil commented - "Atar was always said to be full of cheer and goodwill. I remembered him as such a fun father, always playing with me, telling me tales and walking around the place with me at his shoulders. I sometimes feel like I have so little in common with him, character-wise" - the King admitted, his tone reminiscent and sad. Celebrimbor, for all the tragedy which had followed his friend, envied him that. Gil's grief was real and deep, but it wasn't marked with the bitterness of his father's actions like Celebrimbor's was. Fingon had been very loved by his subjects and even the ones who felt he was too close to the Feanorians - to one Feanorian in particular - couldn't fault him in his choices. Fingon had always put his people and his duty first. Even his final battle, which had been promoted by Maedhros and some had thought it was a foolish one, Fingon had paid the ultimate price.

"He was kind. But he was also very serious when needed. He would be very proud of you and what you have done here" - Celebrimbor said seriously.

Gil nodded in response, his head bowed in private grief. Celebrimbor rose from his seat, walking to the window to give his friend some privacy. After a few moments, Gil seemed to compose himself and cleared his throat. Celebrimbor turned back to him and Gil started to talk, changing the subject.

"I am glad to see you better. As I said you before, we had lost hope to see you alive again" - Gil said formally, looking again every inch of the King he was, his former weakness forgotten - "I haven't gotten the opportunity to ask you what you want to do now" - he continued while Celebrimbor returned to his seat - "You are, of course, welcome to stay here in Lindon and return to your work in here with us. We could use a smith of your calibre right now, I won't lie to you" - Gil concluded waving a hand around his desk with all the preparations for war visible there.

Celebrimbor bowed his head in thought. He hadn't considered what he should be doing next. He couldn't lie - at least to himself - that the thought of returning to a forge filled him with some dread. Not only Annatar had spent a lot of time with him, and some intimate times too that filled him with repulsion now, had the Maia tried to get Istyar to catch them in the act there? He remembered several occasions where he had almost done it, but Istyar had arrived before he could seduce him there. Finally, he had seduced him at home, and Istyar had caught them there.

Gil looked at him thoughtfully, looking like he understood some of Celebrimbor's concerns. He wondered how much his cousin - the King - knew and who had informed him. Gil's next words cleared that up.

"Maybe my offer has been too hasty. I wonder if you are truly fine cousin. From what I have been told, your... connection to Sauron wasn't just... professional" - he commented haltingly like he was carefully hefting his words.

Celebrimbor bowed his head even more in shame, finally admitting.

"I slept with him" - he whispered. Gil didn't react to the confession, confirming Celebrimbor's suspicions that he had already been told, probably by Gildor or maybe Galadriel. He decided to come fully clean regardless - "I cheated on my lover and started an affair with him" - he confessed, all the shame and pain he felt, clear in his face and voice.

"By the Valar, Cel" - Gil muttered, his voice shocked. Celebrimbor didn't know if he hadn't been told about Istyar or if it was the shock of hearing the confession from Celebrimbor. It was extremely rare for an elf to cheat on their lovers and Celebrimbor felt the shame again at seeing his cousin's incredulity - "How could you do that to Istyar? As young as he is, we could have lost him to grief" - the King said, confirming to Celebrimbor that someone had already told him the shameful tale.

"I can't make any excuses Gil" - Celebrimbor admitted - "I wasn't thinking, obviously"

Gil rose from his seat and started to walk around the room, agitated. After a few minutes of walking off his anger, he turned back to Celebrimbor, his grey eyes hard of steel. Celebrimbor was surprised to be reminded of his grandfather Feanor then. Gil wasn't a Feanorion, of course - no matter how much Gil's father would have wanted to have a child with his true love - but he was reminded then that Maedhros had also had a hand in the King's upbringing. His next words confirmed that.

"We don't cheat on our partners" - he said firmly - "That kind of behaviour can be counted as a crime among us, given the consequences. You realise that Istyar could ask for retribution for this?" - he asked. Celebrimbor nodded in response.

"I am aware" - he conceded - "He should" - he said. Gil made an angry gesture and returned to his seat.

"Don't, Cel" - he said angrily - "Don't make yourself a martyr. This is not just about you, this is beyond you need to atone. I am relieved that Istyar hasn't succumbed to grief for this and we would be having a much different conversation if it wasn't so. But now the worst has been averted, do you realise what position you have put the rest of us in with this?" - he asked.

Celebrimbor, surprised, stopped to think, realising his cousin wasn't only thinking about this as his cousin but as the King. He had to admit he hadn't considered any political implications of his actions.

"I hadn't considered anything beyond our situation" - he considered out loud, trying to understand Gil's worries.

"You know that your... renouncement of your father, and his and his brother's actions have granted you some immunity, even if some people still look at you warily as the last of Feanor's line" - Gil started to explain. Celebrimbor nodded in response, wondering where the King was going with this - "Furthermore, while you were still living with Curfin, you were still very young. At the worst of your family's deeds, at Alqualonde and Losgar, you were just a child yourself" - the King continued thoughtfully. Celebrimbor said nothing, waiting to see what this trip down to memory lane was leading to. Gil sighed, like the whole weight of the world was on his shoulders - "But people never forget. And especially our people. And some have always been waiting to see if some of your family's worst traits would surface" - he said.

Celebrimbor reclined against his chair, thinking of Gil's words. They weren't a surprise as he had always been aware of some people's wary gazes on him. But he admitted, he hadn't considered his personal affairs as something that could be judged against him in light of his family.

"You are saying that some people will count my actions with Sauron and Istyar as proof of some... weakness in my blood" - he said slowly.

"As proof that you are not to be trusted, certainly" - Gil conceded. Celebrimbor looked at his younger cousin thoughtfully.

"And that could bring trouble to you?" - he asked. He wouldn't blame his cousin if he decided to cut him off. The Valar knew that he had been kinder to Celebrimbor than he deserved, allowing him in his realm and keeping him in his council. Probably out of some mistaken loyalty he felt for his father's ties to the Feanorian. Although the two of them call each other's 'cousin' - as many elves did with family members that weren't close enough - they were farther away than cousins. No one would blame him if Gil decided to cut ties with him - as Celebrimbor had done with his father after his actions with Finrod.

Gil, however, sighed heavily.

"I don't care about that, cousin" - he said, marking the word 'cousin' - "I am secure enough on my position and our kind don't easily cut ties with family, as you well know" - he said wryly - "I am concerned, however, to send you anywhere as my representative with this over your head. About how much they will accept your authority and even your physical safety" - the King said.

"I can take care of myself" - Celebrimbor said before hesitating minutely - "What about Elrond's expedition? I could help them, I am a fair fighter. Maybe I could redeem myself somehow." - he asked carefully, trying to keep his tone neutral. When he had heard about Elrond's plans and Istyar's likely departure he had thought it may be good for the two of them to have some time apart. When Istyar had caught him with Annatar, he had left for weeks on many expeditions. The distance seemed to have been good for him and although Celebrimbor wanted to make amends for his actions, he had been... busy. With Annatar and his distractions. Now his mind was clearer, he wanted to see if there was anything left to save between them, even if only friendship.

Maybe if he told himself that enough times, he could start to believe it.

Gil raised an eyebrow in response.

"Send you with Istyar?" - he asked with a shake of his head - "I have given him my protection. And it would be a poor one if I were to send the elf who hurt him in the first place with him on an expedition which might last for years" - he observed. Celebrimbor raised his eyebrow in surprise, a spike of an alarm going through him at those words.

"Years? I thought Elrond was only scouting around, making sure the troops will be able to travel around there" - he said, surprised.

"That is the official word. But it's not the real objective. Elrond is planning to found a new settlement there, maybe a place we will be able to use as a haven for the future" - Gil explained.

Celebrimbor was feeling torn. His offer had been made almost in jest, not expecting for Gil to agree. But now, the reality of Istyar leaving for years was hitting him. . Of being away from Celebrimbor's sight for so long, maybe even longer if he stayed there permanently... he couldn't explain the dread that thought brought him, but it was there nevertheless.

"You are allowing your heir to leave for something like that?" - he asked - "To leave in such a risky venture, and for so long?" - he wondered.

"Elrond is a full-grown elf, and he is an exceptional warrior and healer" - Gil observed - "If anything, I think it will be us who will have need of him. But I need him out there, doing this. Elrond believes and I agree with him, that we need a place closer to the mountains. Ost-in-Edhil would have served as such, which could be one of the reasons Sauron decided to start his offensive there" - he concluded.

Celebrimbor didn't have arguments against that, and still, everything inside him fought against the notion of Istyar leaving for such a long time. He had thought he had some time to make amends, somehow.

Gil's kind face was sympathetic but firm.

"He will need the time, cousin. And you owe him to give it to him" - he said softly.

"I know. But I am afraid I will lose him completely if I leave things as they are now" - he confessed out loud, giving form to his fears.

"I thought you have already lost him" - Gil observed, his voice even and without judgement, but harsh all the same.

Celebrimbor lowered his tormented gaze to his lap, this time unable to form any other argument.

* * *

Harry looked around the table trying to find the map he needed. Elrond had been a surprising research partner. For some reason, Harry had expected the Peredhel to be similar to Hermione. Elrond was one of the cleverest elves he had met since he arrived at Middle Earth and he hadn't been able to avoid the comparison with his old friend.

However, that was where the likeness ended. Hermione had been driven, almost obsessive about knowledge, but her drive had always been about knowing all, about being the person with the most information in the room. Elrond on the other hand was completely different. He didn't care about other people's opinions or them considering him the cleverest person around. He cared about having enough knowledge to be the best at what he was doing. To have an answer to any question which needed to be answered. Harry suspected that, as it was the case with Hermione, Elrond's own attitude originated from some kind of trauma. Where Hermione's childhood loneliness had made her believe that her value came from being clever, Elrond seemed to always need some answer for everything. Having always a route to follow.

Whatever the reason for that, Harry didn't dare to ask. It would have been intrusive and probably unkind and, in the few days since he had started to work with the older elf, he had learned to like him, very much. There was something in Elrond that called to Harry, maybe his mortal blood was a connection to Harry's former life.

That had been another thing Harry had noticed about his new mentor. Elrond had a strange love-hate relationship with his mortal half. He was unapologetic about his mixed heritage, never allowing anyone to imply he was better as an elf or to disparage his mortal kin. However, at the same time, he would coolly correct anyone who would even imply that he was anything but an elf or that his loyalties lied anywhere else but with the High King.

It was an interesting mixture and Harry didn't envy him the notoriety of being the only half-elf around. Given his brother's choice, it fell to Elrond to fend off all the curious.

The older elf seemed to sense his attention because he lifted his eyes from the book he was studying - some dwarf thing about the tunnels around the Misty Mountains which had curiously fallen into Gil-Galad's hands - and he lifted an inquiring eyebrow.

It was an interesting gesture, Harry hadn't seen anyone with that flair at inquiring with an eyebrow. Fortunately, Harry had become inured to pressure and silent questioning. No one could match Severus Snape's dark suspicious gaze after all, or the malevolence he always emitted when he was close to Harry.

"Is it something wrong? You have been looking between me and the ceiling for a while now" - Elrond observed. Harry bit his lip in thought, wondering what to say. He didn't want to offend the older elf, but he had promised honesty when he had accepted him as his mentor. He decided to go with his initial reflection.

"Nothing important, you just reminded me of an old friend" - he admitted. Elrond looked curious at him, and Harry realised that he was probably as curious about his new companion as Harry was about him, and was worried about offending him.

"Oh? A good memory?" - he asked carefully, and Harry smiled in return, causing him to relax.

"She was my best friend when we were young. And later too, although it was harder to keep the relationship with other... obligations on both sides" - he said, remembering the time after breaking up with Ginny and Ginny’s - and Ron's - reaction.

Ron hadn't changed a lot from his childhood days in his way to deal with things. Harry had become accustomed to having him angry at him every other year. It had become a tiring cycle and he thought it was only the memory of his first childhood friend which had kept him from cutting ties entirely.

Hermione on the other hand had been different altogether. She had grown into a beautiful witch and a wonderful person. She had been able to overcome many of her childhood failings such as her obsession with always being right or her blind belief in authority and the written word. With that out of the way, she had been Harry's best friend and ally, and the two of them had stayed closer than any other of Harry's friends.

She was, however, married to the love of her life. And sometimes, her loyalty to her husband, Ron, had been difficult to balance with her friendship with Harry. It shouldn't have been, but it was at times. Harry didn't fault her for putting her family first, but it made it difficult for the two of them to stay in contact when Ron was in one of his fits. It soured Harry's own relationship with the redhead even more, as when he was being irrationally jealous or stubborn it didn't only affect his relationship with Harry but Harry with Hermione as he expected her to cut ties with Harry too at those times.

Harry's opinions on that attitude were... better left unsaid, honestly. He regretted that he wasn't at an impartial party there, so he couldn't tell Hermione what he thought about it, but he lived in hope that some of Hermione's girlfriends or maybe his parents would say something. Unfortunately, Hermine had an even harder time than Harry making friends, and her relationship with her parents had been...complicated since she erased their memories.

By the time Harry had crossed the Veil, the two of them had been barely able to talk to each other a few times every year. Harry felt that the weight of the Hallow's influence and his unchanged looks had added to every other issue between them. It had been another loss to the list of losses he could no longer count. It had added to his desperate attempt to make things right. He wondered if he would have taken the risk he had if he still had his childhood friends around him.

It was a moot point anyway. They had drifted apart and Harry had only their memories with him. Sometimes, it had been Hermione's rational voice the only thing which had kept him from doing anything _too_ foolish.

As when he had found Celebrimbor cheating on him.

He sighed, shying away from that memory and smiled ruefully at Elrond's still curious gaze.

"She always had good advice for me. Always had an answer for everything or a book where she could look for it. Or so it seemed to me. I usually try to imagine her advice when I am planning something... risky" - he admitted, fondly and nostalgic.

Elrond's sharp grey eyes seemed to read into Harry's soul, and Harry wasn't surprised when he seemed to go to the core of the matter.

"What would have been her advice when you went to rescue my cousin?" - he asked softly. Harry tilted his head in thought, remembering that discussion on his own head.

And yes, it fell a bit crazy to him too.

"She would have been... worried about walking into something like that without knowing anything about Sauron's abilities and what was really happening in that tower" - he said - "However, she was very loyal and kind. I think she would have been worried about the risk but would have also voted to go save Celebrimbor" - he said, his tone certain.

"Even after knowing that Celebrimbor had cheated on you?" - Elrond asked pointedly although kindly. Harry kept his gaze locked in Elrond's. He wasn't ashamed.

"Even then. He may have been a scumbag and deserved scorn for what he did" - Harry said firmly - "But he didn't deserve to be tortured to death by that cowardly Maia" - he concluded, convinced.

Elrond nodded in response, his gaze admiring.

"You are a kind soul Istyar. And very brave" - he decided - "No many people would be able to see past their pain to understand that distinction, and even less would have tried to do what you did given the risk. But I am grateful you did, and that the two of you are safe" - the Peredhel said turning his attention back to the map before him and changing the subject, like he had reached a conclusion about Istyar and was no longer concerned about it, whatever that was - "This route here, do you think it will be watched?" - he asked, pointing on the map.

Harry walked closer to it and followed Elrond's finger trying to return his focus to the matter at hand.

Elrond waited patiently, and Harry found he liked him even more for it.

* * *

Glorfindel entered the courtyard of the castle, dismounting his horse and looking around the grounds, searching for someone familiar and very aware of the five presences behind him which were also dismounting from their own horses. He wasn't, as many other elves, as in awe of the Maia as others were. He had been born in Valinor, after all, among them. He had gotten some of them as teachers as some points even, as the King's grandson.

But he was very aware of their power and the implications of their presence at Middle Earth right now. Just when Sauron had shown his hand as he had. He wondered how Gil-Galad would react to the Maia presence. He had found the High King a practical, clever and brave, but also a very cautious elf. Certainly more cautious than his famously reckless father, Fingon. It was a good trait in a King and certainly, Glorfindel had been relieved to see it in him. In some ways, Gil-Galad reminded Glorfindel of his uncle Turgon. He was as protective of those he loved and his people as Glorfindel's former King, but lacking his uncle's paranoia and stubborn vanity.

In whole, he expected that the King would be certainly wary of the newcomers. Particularly after Sauron's reveal. Sauron-as-Annatar had also initially claimed to be a kindly messenger of the Valar, here to help them to fight the growing darkness. A beautiful being trying to seduce them into believing them.

Well, at least those Maia weren't trying to use their appearance to make them trust them. Not exactly, at least. Those five looked like they were wise old men, Glorfindel figured there may be some kind of manipulation involved. Maybe they were trying to imply they were wise with their age and also, not to look too threatening looking like old, fragile, mortal men. It made Glorfindel's head spin, as it usually did, to try to out-think any of the Valar or their Maiar.

He saw a familiar figure appear in the courtyard and was relieved. He hadn't wanted to leave the others waiting at the courtyard, but he also didn't wish to bring them to Gil-Galad without warning. Istyar was looking warily between the five mounted figures, his clever green eyes going from one wizard to another. Clearly, despite his youth, Istyar was able to see what lied beyond the old men’s appearance. Enough at least to be wary.

"Istyar!" - he called out loud to the young Sylvan. Those green eyes snapped quickly on his direction, his gaze momentarily distracted around Glorfindel's head as it usually happened - and what was that about? Glorfindel had only seen him do that strange eye-dance with him? Was that some strange Sylvan's attitude about blondes? - he soon focused on Glorfindel, however, and came closer to his mount.

"Lord Glorfindel? I thought you had gone to the harbour to speak with Lord Cirdan about recruitment. We didn't expect you back so soon" - Istyar said curiously, his gaze focused on Glorfindel but Glorfindel noticed he avoided giving the newcomers his back, always keeping them within sight.

Glorfindel approved the wary attitude and good instincts the young Sylvan was showing. He wondered if he could convince Elrond and Gil-Galad to send Istyar with him instead of with the Peredhel. He discarded the thought immediately, however. He would prefer such a sharp mind with the King's heir anyway. He looked like someone who would thrive better away from... formal structures.

"There were some people just arriving there when I reached Cirdan" - he signalled his companions. Istyar threw the others a quick look before returning his attention to Glorfindel - "They need to see the King. Would you go find him? And ask him to come here?... And why?" - he asked quietly, wondering if the Sylvan would understand what he was asking.

Istyar's flashing eyes reassure him. The young elf would ask the King to come and he would warn him of the nature of their visitors. He bowed in response and turned quickly in the palace direction, crossing the courtyard almost at a run and entering through one of the doors.

Glorfindel returned his attention to his companions. The Maia had been looking curiously around, mostly unconcerned about Glorfindel's actions.

Except for one of them. The one called Olorin was looking curiously after Istyar, his kind blue eyes following the departing form closely until Istyar vanished into the palace. He then turned to Glorfindel in undisguised curiosity.

"That is an interesting youngster" - he commented, patting his horse's nose fondly - "He looks in his first century, but something about him feels... more like you do Lord Glorfindel like he was Aman-born..." - he trailed off distractedly, looking towards the door where Istyar had disappeared as he could see inside it and reach the young Sylvan.

"That is absurd Olorin. You have said it yourself. He is not even in his first century. Clearly, he has been born here, therefore whatever you have felt is not what you thought" - other of the Maia - Curunir - said, dismissively.

Glorfindel shrugged in Olorin's direction before looking away from him. He had noticed that this Olorin, while apparently deferring to Curunir as their leader, seemed to have a curiosity and understanding of the people of Middle Earth as his friend didn't. And was usually dismissed.

Glorfindel wouldn't be the one to point out that Olorin's observation was probably a fair assertion of the young Sylvan. From what he had seen, despite Olorin's deference in public to the other, he wasn't shy in following his own instincts outside his fellow Maia sight. Istyar would probably need to be careful about his secrets around that one if he wanted to keep them.

He was distracted from his musings by Gil-Galad's and Elrond's exit from the castle, purposely walking in their direction. Glorfindel straightened, getting ready for the formal - and boring - introductions. It was bound to be a long day.

He took the time to notice that Istyar hadn't returned to the courtyard, however.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Cheat name and character sheet, and a bit of background here as I'm starting this tale in the middle:
> 
> Harry: Harry Potter, I tried to create a name for Harry which would keep a bit of Harry meaning (Harry as far as I found mean: home or house protector, army commander). For commander I found Káno of course, for protector Varyando or Varno. I don't like any of them. Well I like Káno but for other elves :D. I won't bore you with all the search I made but finally I decided Istyar which means 'wizard' in the context of lore master, scholar, learned man. So I think it's an inner joke for Harry. Anyway, he still thinks of himself as Harry, so inner dialogue will show this, but for everyone else he is Istyar until he reveals himself and his past.
> 
> Celebrimbor: Son of Curifin, fifth son of Feanor. Great craftsman, creator of the three elven Rings. He was deceived by Sauron in the guise of Annatar (giver of gifts) to learn and work with him, and he created the Rings. But at the end he was suspicious of Annatar and kept the elven Rings in secret and out of Annatar's influence. In this story, their relationship was a bit more intimate, Annatar seduced Celebrimbor to gain access to his work. 
> 
> Annatar: Sauron's name when he returned to Middle Earth to gain access to the elven Realms. He pretended to be an emissary of the Valar, sent to help the elves with his knowledge. Gil-Galad and Elrond didn't trust him, but Celebrimbor did, to his ruin.


End file.
